


Another Love

by kozumecool, rathavits



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: 6 year age difference, Angst, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Bisexual John Marston, Bottom John, Coming of Age, Consequences, Drunken Shenanigans, Dutch isn't insane, Friends to Lovers, Gay, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hosea is alive, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Arthur Morgan, Jealous John Marston, John changes the future, John is in love with Arthur, M/M, Micah is a snake, No underaged, Not everything in the story will match up with the game, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Pining, Pining John, Protective Arthur Morgan, Protective John Marston, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Story will not be similar to the game, Supportive Dutch and Hosea, Top Arthur Morgan, Unrequited Crush, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Crush, Young John Marston, ignoring, time reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozumecool/pseuds/kozumecool, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathavits/pseuds/rathavits
Summary: The more John tries to prevent Arthur’s death, the more chaos it’ll cause amongst the gang. Is it inevitable to save him?
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 60





	1. Confessions and Drunks

John often spent time with Arthur, the teen had practically helped raise him and he had easily grown attached to him. He had never thought too much into what that attachment was, at least not until now, as he watched him build the fire for the night. His heart ached in a weird way that he’d never felt before, causing him confusion and a bit of fear at the realization he had just had. 

He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, was he? Why did he think that he _liked_ Arthur? This was definitely a crush, but could he even tell anyone about it? His first thought was to talk to Dutch about it, he was like a father to him after all, but what would he tell him? “I’m gonna go, uh, help Dutch or somethin’,” he quickly says before heading towards the man’s tent. His heart his pounding as he makes his way inside. 

“Can I talk to you about somethin’ it’s kind of confusing and I don’t know who else to go to?” he starts off softly. 

“Go ahead, boy, what else am I here for?” Dutch says as he pats the spot next to him for John to sit down. 

“How do I say this? I like Arthur...maybe I just really admire him because my heart aches in this odd way when I look at him. Please don’t hate me for it, I’m just as confused, but I know that it’s him,” John says shakily. 

Dutch seems to be slightly taken aback by John’s confession. It’s not ordinary for people to just confess that they like the same sex. Actually it was forbidden, and illegal. People would even get hung for it. Dutch didn’t really care though, he had never been concerned about the ideals of hate and discrimination. Clearly, since he had a mixture of races in his group as well, and women as outlaws. “Well… Son, I’m proud that you’re telling me this. But he’s a bit too old for you now, boy. Arthur’s a grown man, it wouldn’t be right to pursue him at your age—.”

“—I overheard what was going on,” Hosea interrupts. “John it’s perfectly normal to feel the way you do. However, you mustn’t tell Arthur about your feelings until you’re at least eighteen. You have two more years, you’re getting there. Just be a little patient. You can stick to him like glue but never, not ever, can you tell him. He’d be distraught if you told him. He’s a bit dumb, but he’s not oblivious to morals. He’d never consider a teen boy.”

“Hosea is right,” Dutch nods. He reaches out to give John a tight hug. “You can cling to him all you want, just make sure you don’t hurt yourself. Love is a rough concept, but you’ll be lucky to have it.”

John was so caught up in his feelings that he had forgotten about that, he was so impulsive sometimes that he silently thanked himself for coming to Dutch first instead of acting as rash as he often did. “Weren’t my fault anyway,” he mutters into the hug, it wasn’t his fault that he felt like this. It had simply happened. 

He felt refreshed as he stood up, like a weight had been lifted off of him. Arthur wouldn’t think much of it anyway, he was already very touchy with him and he simply assumed that it was because John wanted attention and saw him as someone who would easily give him what he craved. “Thank you,” he says as he stands up and heads back over to where Arthur was now. 

“I’m back,” he announces as he sits down next to him. There was nothing out of the ordinary, John could do nothing about his feelings for now at least.

Arthur was busy sketching in his journal, he had noticed John get up and leave a few hours ago to do whatever the hell kids did. He turns his head to look at John when he returns. “Where’d you scamper off to, kid?” He asks, closing his journal. “D’you finish the reading homework Hosea gave you? Unless you been avoidin’ it?”

John usually argued a lot with him. Especially when it came to homework. Yet the kid was fond of Arthur, and he could tell. He’d always stick to Arthur, even if it wasn’t required. Arthur also noticed John seeking attention from him as well, and being affectionate towards him. However, Arthur didn’t point it out because the last time he did, John avoided him for a week and cursed him out.

“What’s it to ya’?” John retorts, he couldn’t help it, “Why’s it matter anyway, it’s not like we’re gonna be doctors anytime soon.” He saw no point in it, but he’d get to it eventually, Hosea was really strict on that kind of stuff. He said it’d at least let them fend for themselves. 

“I’ve been busy with ...stuff. Hosea said it was okay, I think,” he liked talking to Arthur an awful lot, even if it was just picking an argument, “Did you ever think about gettin out of this damned place?” he asks, he’d always contemplated it. _What if things were different._

“This gang? Nah, my entire life is because of this gang. Nothing means more to me then them. I’ve tried getting out before, didn’t work out. S’okay though, we all have moments when we think of leavin’... Are you thinkin’ of leavin’, Marston?” Arthur questions. John was acting odd, more than usual.

“Also, what stuff were you busy with? You weren’t exactly busy if you count talkin’ their ears off.” Arthur notices John tense, “Relax… I’m just jokin’ with you. You’re too easy to hassle sometimes. Y’know that right? Only reason Bill picks on ya’.” 

“I suppose you can’t have both, damn,” he realizes, “I don’t know, this is all I know, how am I gonna leave it? I don’t wanna be a father so I think I’m mighty fine here. Maybe I’m too young to think about that anyway,” he says as he looks up at Arthur. He didn’t want him to ask what he was doing earlier, he might accidentally slip up after Dutch and Hosea told him not to. 

He punches Arthur’s arm playfully, “I wasn’t doing that!” _He was._ “Why do ya’ wanna know so bad, it was all boring lectures from Dutch anyway, you wouldn’t want to know about em’,” he tries to divert the conversation, “What were _you_ doin’ all day?” 

“You were with me the majority of it, Marston,” Arthur stares at him for a moment, confusion written on his expression. John was being very weird. Weirder than usual. The kid was always awkward and aggressive, but now he was just awkward. Arthur wondered it Dutch said something that scared the kid. Dutch goes off a lot about things even Arthur couldn’t comprehend.

“Well, I gotta go to the saloon with Javier and Micah, even though I don’t wanna, and I really don’t wanna… Weren’t even my idea to go, but we needa analyze the towns people better and Dutch thinks seeing people drunk n’ vulnerable will be good enough.” Arthur stands up to dust off his pants and reaches to put on his hat. Micah annoyed Arthur a lot more than people knew, Javier was good though and that settled Arthur. “And before you say somethin’... No, you can’t ride along.”

“Why can’t I!? It’s not like I’m not old enough to be there!” John hadn’t ever really been stopped from going somewhere with Arthur, even if he wasn’t allowed at first, eventually he’d budge and let John come along. John quickly wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist to keep him from walking away. 

“Dutch won’t even notice I’m gone, just let me go with y’all! I’ll wait outside if I have to,” he didn’t think much of it, it was just a reflex at this point. He was always attached to Arthur and mad about something, the gang had grown used to it as well. “If ya’ leave me here I won’t talk to ya’ I swear.” 

Arthur grunts when John makes his impact. “Boy, if you don’t let go!” He knows he can easily shove the kid away, but he doesn’t want to be forceful with him. John always thought he’d get his way just by being demanding. The kid had his cute moments though. “Alright, alright, fine…” He gave in easily like always.

“But don’t touch anythin’ unless I tell you!” Arthur scolds, staring down at the teen. “Or I’ll make sure to dump your ass in the water when we get back,” Arthur adds, a teasing tone evident. It was always amusing to Arthur that John feared water.

“Don’t do that! I’ll behave,” John didn’t know how to swim and so that was the last thing he wanted, “I can’t believe you’re holdin’ that against me. No one ever taught me and I don’t want to get near the water anyway.” He had gotten his way and at least he could spend some more time with Arthur, after all they never said that they couldn’t be friends. 

He didn’t really like Micah much but at least Arthur would be there, nothing besides that really mattered to him. He and Arthur mount their horses and get ready to go, “Last one there owes the winner a drink!” he yells before taking off, teasing Arthur into a little competition, he was still young, after all, who would a little fun hurt? 

“Hey, g’back here! You’re still too young to drink!” Arthur yelled, rolling his eyes. Javierand Micah glare at Arthur for letting John tag along. “What? He deserves to come along if he wants to learn what we do better,” Arthur snapped. He puts his foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up. “C’mon, girl, we gotta catch up with him.” The horse makes snort sound before taking off into a gallop, following after John’s horse. 

Micah and Javier follow as well. Arthur’s horse soon picks up the pace and gallops beside John. “What did I say, Marston?! We can’t just run in there like a pack of coyotes, god damn it,” he grabs John’s reins and slows the horse he was riding down. “Don’t make me regret this, you bastard,” he narrows his eyes before the horses start to trot instead of gallop.

“Why the hell did you bring him along, cowpoke?!” Micah complained. “He’s too damn stupid to process the mission at hand. Did Dutch even let him tag along?” 

“Does it matter? I said he could,” Arthur retorts. “Shut up, Micah, ain’t nobody here displeased other than you.”

“I gotta agree with that, compadres,” Javier adds.

“Exactly, Micah, I ain’t hurtin’ nobody,” John says after slowing down and keeping his pace up with the rest of them, “You said not to _touch_ anythin’, you never said I couldn’t have fun, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

When they finally arrived at the saloon they made sure their horses were secure by the water stations before going inside. John made sure to act as calm as possible but it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d remain that way the entire time. They sat at the bar and he decided that he’d play the part. “I’ll have the-”

“Juice, he’ll have juice, because America’s weird like that,” Javier says before John can say anything. 

“That’s what I was gonna say,” he retorts before dejectedly looking at the glass of apple cider in front of him. 

“We’re just gonna have a few drinks, nothin’ more,” Arthur interrupts.

“Of course, what else are we here for cowpoke? We’re here to spy,” Micah grins. Arthur nods and Javier rolls his eyes. It’s not long before the three men start having their third shot of whiskey. Then fourth, then fifth, sixth, and seventh. 

“Say, why are you not married Arthur?” Javier points out.

“Nobody wants to deal with him,” Micah retorts.

“For real though, ignoring Micah, why aren’t you married?” Javier asks again, glaring at Micah.

“Well… You see…. Nobody would have meee,” Arthur slurs sadly, before choking on his shot. “Cause… You see… the th-thing is...Javier!” Arthur yelled. “Where’d you go, you bastard? Did you go back to Mexico? God damn it, Javier, don’t listen to the damn racists outside protesting and shit!” 

“Stupid, I’m over here!” Javier waves. “Wait, I don’t know where I am actually.”

“Get off the damn table you immigrant!” Micah wheezes.

“Shut up you racist white man!” Javier screamed back. “Why do we even put up with you?!”

Arthur grunts when bumping into a girl who stares up at him. “Care to have some private time? Only two dollars, darlin’.”

“I’m good, thank youuuu,” Arthur slurs before squirming past her. “John! God damn it, did you guys not watch the kidddd?!” 

“I thought youuu were watchin’ himmm.” Micah grunts.

“Where is he? Everything is foggy!” Javier coughs out his whiskey shot. 

“Enough drinking you bastards, we gotta find… John… Johnny boy!” Arthur screamed. “Get your hands off him you inbred trash!” Arthur yells when noticing a man try to grab John who was in utter confusion. 

“What did you say to me?!” He yelled.

“What?!” Arthur yelled back.

“I said what did you say to me?!” He pushes Arthur who almost slides across the floor with his unbalanced feet.

“Come get me you bastard!” Arthur immediately starts running. “Johnny boy, get your little ass over here. W-we gotta, we gotta… I think I’m gonna be sick.” He stops and starts to throw up on the floor. “Oh, god damn it… You moron, Morgan…” He says to himself. 

“You’ll never take me back to Mexico!” Javier yells from across the bar. “Aye, brothers, I need your assistance! I think this is deportation!” 

“I c-can’t, I can’t even be bothered, Javier,” Arthur groans. “S’what? No deportation! Get away from ‘em. We’re Americannns!” Arthur puts up his fists and so does Micah as they slowly approach the racists. It’s not before long that the group starts dancing in a line dance, kicking their feet up. 

“Say, why haven’t we done this b-before?!” Micah choked.

“Y’know, when you’re drunkkk, you’re not annoyinggg,” Javier whispers into Micah’s ear as they dance.

“Thanksss,” Micah chokes. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Where’s John?!” Arthur yelled before falling over from dizziness. “Ah, shit, I’m out!” He starts throwing up again.

“Arthur, no! Where is John? We gotta- oh, no,” Javier passes out.

“My brothers!” Micah wheezes from laughter before passing out on top of Javier.

“Duuutch, is gonnn’ kill us,” Arthur moans out before closing his eyes.

“Is anybody gonna escort these fools out?” The bartender demands.

“I’m literally standin’ right here,” John says as he rolls his eyes at the group of drunk men in front of him, “They’re with me,” he says as he tries to wake the others up. 

“Hey, Arthur, wake uppp! Arthur!” he pats his cheeks gently at first with enough force that he would feel the little slaps, “What in the hell, why’re ya’ such a pitch black drunkard? Arthur! We’ve gotta go home!” he yells before slapping him with more force. 

Arthur furrows his eyebrows, not opening his eyes yet. It’s not until he recognizes the sound of John that he’s slightly aware of what’s going on. Arthur’s eyes open, just barely, but enough to see John over him. It’s not until he feels a sting that he fully awakens, “Ouch! What in the hell, Marston? You bastard, that hurt…” 

He looks around to see Micah and Javier laying on the floor. “We gotta get out of here before the law comes. Listen, boy, I can barely look at nothin’ for too long before becoming a damn swirling tornado. Y’think you can lead me back to camp? Javier will handle Micah, but I’m more recognizable as a wanted man than they are. S’you’re gonna needa help me to my horse n’ take me somewhere quiet. Everythin’ is too damn loud…”


	2. Camps and Blizzards

To John this was no problem, as long as he got to spend time with Arthur, the kid was happy. “Okay,” he says as he helps the other man remain stable before escorting him out of the saloon before anyone could notice that it was Arthur. He let the man hoist himself up on the horse and took her lead so that they wouldn’t get lost from each other. 

John led them to a clearing in the woods that no one really frequented and made sure there was a spot with shade so that the light wouldn’t be bothersome. “That should be good enough,” he proudly dusts off his hands as if he had just been toiling around dirt and gets off of his horse, “No one can find us here,” he smiles. 

  
  


Arthur slowly dismounts from his horse Mickey. She snorts in annoyance as he takes his time, almost searching for the ground underneath him as he stabilizes himself. “Woah, girl, easy,” Arthur murmurs, he takes his foot out of the stirrup finally and reaches up to start petting her. “Good girl, you get somethin’ to munch on, alright?” He gently nudges her which makes Mickey turn away and put her snout down to start eating on the grass. Arthur turns to John, rubbing his head which still ached. 

He grabs some logs from the ground and makes a fire. “God damn, my head hurts so much. Can you handle keepin’ the fire goin’?‘M gonna get some shut eye,” Arthur lays down on the grass, tipping his hat over his eyes as he closes them. It’s not before long that he falls asleep. Mickey and John’s horse grazed in the distance, and the moon was fully out now.

“Yeah, sure,” John assures him, growing up the way he did, he’d been taught all he needed in order to survive. He didn’t have to worry about the fire for at least half an hour though. He sat down next to where Arthur has fallen asleep. He couldn’t comprehend why this was happening, but he wasn’t scared of it. People could have crushes, their heart could skip a beat when they saw someone good looking. 

That’s how he felt right then and there, Arthur was objectively handsome, plenty of people found him attractive. He understood boundaries though and so for now he would admire from afar. Arthur didn’t have to know how he felt, he could take his time. They had time to wait. 

It’s about 6 A.M. that Arthur finally wakes up. He takes off the hat that’s tipped over his eyes and immediately winces at the sun's rays hitting him. He feels a little sick from drinking but not too bad. He sits up and feels a lump beside him, a soft smile spreading across his face when realizing it was John who was curled up against his side, almost seeking some sort of heat. Poor kid must’ve been stuck watching the fire for hours. 

Arthur sighed but decided to let him sleep, so he didn’t move John. Normally he’d wake up John and suggest they’d go home. Hell, he’d even feel better doing that. But something about how tired and cold John seemed, stopped him. Arthur pulls off his coat and pulls it over John who was shivering against his side. He decided to pass time by watching the horses graze. 

It was after a while that John finally woke up, he was startled by his surroundings as it was the following day and they had never gone home. “Arthur! What the hell are we still doing here? Why didn’t ya’ wake me up, Dutch is probably wonderin’ where we are. Okay he might not be, but you’re a wanted man, Morgan!” John says as he sits up. 

He realized that Arthur has given him his coat to use as a blanket and stares at it for a moment before looking back up at him, “Thank you, we should really get going,” he stands up with the coat in hand and walks over to Arthur to hand it to him. There’s a blush on his face that he really hoped he couldn’t see. 

Arthur nods and takes the coat. “Dutch always is wonderin’ where we are. He thinks I’m out being irresponsible most’ve the time… Anyways, let’s get movin’,” Arthur pats John on the shoulder before walking over to his horse Mickey. He mounts her and she snorts in content after being patted. 

Arthur waits for John to mount his horse and the two start off to camp. It’s not until a few hours that they make it there. “Alright folks, to Blackwater we go!” Dutch yells excitedly once seeing Arthur and John arrive. That’s where it all went wrong. Dutch and Micah killed a girl. Nobody really talked about it. The gang became wanted by the Pinkertons, and now were officially on the run. A few years later, John went missing in a snowstorm. Arthur and Javier set off to find him only to find that he had been attacked by wolves. Arthur helps put John onto his horse, the boy clearly wounded. “You gonna be alright?” He questions. 

John winces in pain as Arthur helps him, it had been years since he had first realized his feelings for him and he still hadn’t told the man. When he thought he was going to die he almost regretted everything until they found him and he knew he’d be okay. “It’s just a little scratch,” he tries to joke to lighten the mood. 

He’s just glad to be alive, the pain is irrelevant at this point. They finally get back to camp and John gives Arthur a grateful smile. “I owe ya’ one, Morgan, ya’ saved my life,” he wondered why they didn’t give up looking for him. Anyone else would have let him go, but he trusted the gang with his life. 

“Javier and I couldn’t just leave ya’ there. Besides, Dutch misses his golden son. Micah’s been driving the entire gang insane since you been gone. Snow everywhere, nonstop coldness, ain’t nothing homey at all at this new camp. I jus’ can’t wait to get somewhere else. Heard we’re headin’ to Valentine.” Arthur lights a cigarette, smoking it for a moment as he pauses.

“Ain’t just a scratch, Marston. You needa get some rest. I’ll catch you around, might not see you for a few days. Dutch wants us goin’ out to scout an O'Driscoll camp.” Arthur gives him a wave and stomps on his cigarette. He walks off to mount his new horse Mango. Mickey had recently died, which affected Arthur a lot. However, Mango grew on Arthur everyday. He loved her a lot. He gallops off with the rest of the gang, and a few days pass after that.

“Been a few days,” Lenny comments, sitting beside John who was still forced to stay in bed. “Arthur and the gang still aren’t back. Just us and the women… I’m getting kinda worried. They usually- never mind, they’re back!” Lenny helps John stand up who was still processing the entire situation, he helps him outside. Dutch and the gang ride in. “Where’s Arthur?” Lenny questions.

“Chasing an O’Driscoll boy,” Dutch replies. “Hello, John.” 

“What’d’ya mean Arthur’s not back? That bastard said he’d come back, but he’s out there playin’ the hero again ain’t he?” John says as he tries to sit up. Lenny quickly tells him to lay back down, but he’s stubborn and refuses to do as he’s told. 

“He’s Arthur, what’d you expect?” Lenny comments, “He’ll be back soon, he can’t stay away for long.” 

John sighs and reluctantly lies back down, he had just almost died, he didn’t need Arthur missing too. He was tired of sitting around and waiting, he just wanted to be up and walking, and ready to go on another solo mission with him. It had been a while since they had done any of that. 

“That asshole,” he mutters. 

Arthur soon rode up on his horse, a boy on the back as the boys horse followed behind them. “Found him,” Arthur comments flatly. “His names Kieran, says he don’t like his own gang. Hard to believe but I reckon he should spill easily.” 

“Good work, Arthur, I’ll handle things from here. You go get some rest,” Dutch smiles, having the boy be taken off Arthur’s horse.

“Alright,” Arthur hums in agreement. He dismounts his horse before walking inside the building John was held up in. He wanted to check on the boy. “Weren’t you supposed to be getting bed rest?” Arthur comments when seeing John up and standing.

John almost made a snarky comment but realized that it was Arthur who had come back, “Where in the hell did ya’ go!? What took ya’ so long?” he exclaims as he runs up to him and immediately greets him. He didn’t even care that he was still recovering from the wolf attack. 

“I’ve had enough bed rest, I think I can walk around perfectly well without the entire camp thinkin’ I’m gonna break at any second. I can handle myself and you know that,” he says, the stubborn attitude he had coming back. He finally felt like himself again.

“You’re gettin’ mushy on me, Marston,” Arthur retorts, but it’s all in a teasing tone. Arthur has grown to like John, he was like a brother he didn’t know he wanted. Well, that’s what he thought… Dutch told him that was their relationship, so he simply went with it. “Picked up an O’Driscoll boy, Kieran. Little worried about him, seemed a little too, well, good. Like he didn’t know what he got himself into.”

Arthur sighs, thinking for a moment. “I reckon I’m bein’ a little too carin’, it ain’t suitin’ me at all. Anyway, get some damn rest or I’ll make sure to put you to work, Marston,” Arthur warned before turning away and walking out. He heads straight over to Kieran, who was tied and staring at him wide eyed. “What did Dutch say yer’ verdict was?”

“H-He said I c-couldn’t e-eat, s-sir,” Kieran replies skittishly.

Arthur stares at him, frowning slightly when hearing that. _God damn, he’s just a kid, Dutch. What’s goin’ on with you?_ “Here, take this,” Arthur pulls out a wrapped biscuit, holding onto it and moving it too Kieran’s mouth so he could start munching on it. 

“O-Oh, thank you, mister! S-say you’re really kind,” Kieran smiles.

“I ain’t, don’t forget that I kidnapped you,” Arthur snapped. _Sorry kid, I wish you could have things different._ Arthur turns around and walks to his own camp, sitting down finally. This day was long and cold. Arthur hated it more and more. 

John was tired of being stuck in bed and so he decided to try and go out for a walk. He pulled on his jacket and boots and left the building. He walked around the camp until he got to Arthur’s space and peered in. “Why the long face? Did a missus reject you or somethin’?” He hated the way those words left his mouth. 

“I haven’t gone soft...m’just grateful you’re okay, and myself...I suppose,” he says, finally giving Arthur an explanation that he didn’t really need but it made for a conversation, “I’ll still kill ya’ if ya’ tell Dutch I left bed, so don’t get cozy.” 

“You? Kill me?” Arthur let out a loud laugh. “You have some humor to you, boy. I’m almost impressed that you made me laugh at you. You sure are a bastard,” Arthur chuckles. “Nah, jus’ thinkin’ like always. I ain’t ever been interested in foolin’ around like that. Not since Mary and all… Don’t wanna talk about that though.”

“Relax though, I ain’t gonna tell Dutch. Besides, he’s too busy with that scum Micah. Ain’t never liked that guy, I reckon he’s bad news but Dutch thinks he ain’t. Just sit down, this small shack has plenty of room for two.” Arthur finishes the small talk, leaning his head back on the wall as he relaxes.

“I don’t like him,” John mutters, he looks over at Arthur. A small smile spreads across his lips as the realization that he made Arthur, one of the most serious people he knew, laugh. It felt nice. He finds himself staring at him, not in a bad way, he was just unaware of the fact that the man was rather handsome when he was finally able to get some peace and quiet since it was rare that he did. 

He knew that he could probably never compete with Mary, he might never see John in that way and it almost broke the boy’s heart. It was what stopped him from saying anything now that he was older. His feelings hadn’t changed, it was just circumstance that ruined him. “Hosea’ll probably knock some sense into him, it’s what he’s always done. Hasn’t he?” 

“Yeah…” Arthur murmurs. “Here,” Arthur throws him a blanket. “Ain’t nobody needing you to get sick, Marston. You can stay here just… Don’t touch nothin’.” Arthur slowly opened his eyes to look John over, noticing he seemed to be staring at him with some sort of longing look. It was strange to see him like that. 

Arthur was reminded of how John used to steal glances at him when they were younger. He’d often keep himself near Arthur or even attached to his side. John fooled around with nobody, as if he didn’t ever want a love life. Whenever Arthur would ask about him and Abigail, John would scowl and ignore him. 


	3. Valentine and Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Time skip is evident, John is 18, Arthur is 24.)

John looks away when he notices that Arthur was now looking at him. He didn’t intend for him to ever take note of his longing glances and he wasn’t going to start now. He knew that he had been caught, but he still couldn’t help but play it off and act as if it hadn’t happened. 

“How come you never let me touch anythin’? M’not gonna break it,” he complains, trying to forget what had happened, “I should go,” he adds before standing up. He didn’t want to leave but he had already made things awkward enough and so he stood up making it seem as if he was leaving but paused for a moment. He wondered if Arthur would say anything. 

“If you want, you weren’t botherin’ me though. Guess my companies annoyin’ you, even though you’re the one who came in ‘ere the first place,” Arthur yawns. “You shouldn’t be moving around too much either.” He’s not sure what he did to make John all of a sudden want to leave. 

It confused him to say the least. John had been acting strange for awhile. Arthur doesn’t hesitate to finally open his mouth and ask, “Did I offend you somehow? You been actin’ weird with me…” Arthur can’t recall doing anything. He’s always tries to be passive with John, who was literally a damn wolf ready to explode any second.

John turns around at Arthur’s first sentence, “No, S’not you,” he says as he sits back down. He really shouldn’t have been moving so much, Arthur was right. He winces a little as he settles back in. 

“You didn’t offend me, how I been actin’ is my business. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” he assured him. He only ever talked to Abigail because she called for his attention first, Arthur was different and that’s why he was here. “Don’t worry bout’ it, Morgan. You’ve got other things to think about.” 

Arthur narrows his eyes, but gives up. The night ends with both of them falling asleep. Arthur wakes up early and Tilly helps John into a wagon. The gang was moving again. Dutch had them ride to a nearby livestock town called Valentine. Towns weren’t a good idea to Arthur, but it didn’t matter what he wanted. Hosea drove with him on the wagon, sadly their tire fell off so they were slightly behind schedule. The others had left them behind as asked, simply because they couldn’t wait around forever.

Arthur and Hosea soon arrive at the new camp. An area that took up the entire cliff side of a nice quiet forest area. “You wanna go into town with us Arthur?” Karen asks. Arthur sighs, finishing shaving his beard that had grown out by neglect due to the snowstorm. He finishes buttoning his iconic blue shirt.

“Maybe,” Arthur replies. “I’ve got things to do.”

“You needa get a haircut, so come on. Hell, we can drag John along.” Karen adds. 

“Fine, I’m only comin’ for the haircut. John, you’re comin’ with us to town, wolf boy!” Arthur yelled.

John would have protested if it weren’t for Arthur. He stands up and follows him, “I thought I wasn’t allowed to move around so much wasn’t I?” he teases Arthur, he had told him that after all and now he was dragging him into town, “Why’d y’all wanna bring me along anyway? I’ll just slow ya’ down.”

“It’s the only way he’d come along,” Karen responds. 

“That true, Arthur? What’s with you? Now you wanna stick around me?” he decides to mess around with him once more since they had to pass the time somehow. For some reason hearing that really made him happy, did he feel about the same way that John did? He couldn’t have, he was just a little brother to Arthur. 

“I came for my haircut, Marston. Ain’t nothin’ special about you comin’, Karen’s just tryna’ make you feel better,” Arthur retorts, reaching over to hit the back of John’s head. The boy was silly, but Arthur knew he was happy to not be sitting around and doing nothing.

They soon arrive to town and Arthur gets off the wagon. “Remember, Dutch said to keep a low profile, do your robbin’ just don’t get us in trouble,” Arthur warns Karen. She smiles before running off to do her own thing. “I’m gonna go get a haircut. You can go with Karen or me, don’t matter.”

“If she gets caught it’ll just be harder with me,” John says, not leaving Arthur’s side. He hadn’t expected anything to come of his teasing of Arthur, but it still hurt him a little. There wasn’t a lot he felt that he could do. He continues to walk alongside him to the barber shop, luckily he’s better on his feet and so he can keep up. 

“Are you payin’ for the haircut or are we, you know, dining and dashing?” he asks innocently, a lot of what they did seemed to involve crime but seeing as they had just found a good place to settle in for a while, he didn’t think that they would do anything to get them kicked out so soon. 

“Nah, can’t risk the law gettin’ on us for somethin’ stupid like a haircut,” Arthur sits on the barbers chair. “Just trim some of it, ain’t want the back of my hair touchin’ my shoulder,” Arthur asks politely. The barber does his job well and Arthur pays him. “Stay outside waitin’ gotta grab Karen so we can leave. You ain’t gotta move around.”

“I reckon I’ll be back in ten minutes or so,” Arthur quickly heads over to the direction of the hotel. He finds Karen being hassled by some man and steps between them. It ends with a fist fight. Arthur and Karen soon come outside, but Arthur’s expression changes to concern when seeing John missing. It’s not before long that he notices tracks, and a knife on the floor. John must’ve managed to disarm one of the strangers. Arthur recognizes the knife’s carving. “God damn it, O’Driscolls took John! I’ll find him, just let Dutch know,” Arthur quickly mounts someone’s horse and speeds off after the tracks.

John had been waiting for Arthur when he felt the sudden warmth of a hand on his mouth to muffle him and the cool metal of a knife barely pressed against his throat. He knew that any wrong moves would result in him dead, but he had been taught enough that he could at least put up a fight. He managed to knock the knife out of the man’s hand but was immediately knocked out moments after. 

When John woke up he was tied up in the middle of an unfamiliar camp, “Your folks took one of ours so we thought we’d return the favor. Whaddya call it? Oh, an eye for an eye.” 

“He didn’t want to stay with yo-” he tries to say but he’s immediately beaten by the man. He has no way to fight back, there’s no time for him to free himself somehow. It’s harsh and he can’t stop it, no one steps in until he’s unconscious and they decide that that’s enough. 

He wakes up but nothing feels real, he sees Arthur and he knows that it’s a dream, there’s no way he would find him that quickly. He’s speaking to a man and suddenly time fast forwards itself, Arthur begins to develop coughing fits, and soon falls horribly ill, he’s contracted Tuberculosis from the man he’s meeting with and John eventually sees a gravestone with Arthur’s name on it. His heart instantly shatters, this wasn’t real it couldn’t be, something wasn’t right. 

John doesn’t know if this is a nightmare or if he’s being warned of something until he sees Hosea die after they’ve robbed a bank, it’s soon after that he sees Dutch and Micah. Dutch has practically gone insane and Micah’s manipulation had been making it worse. John had never liked the man and so this wasn’t difficult to believe, however, he didn’t know what to make of these images, there were certain parts that seemed to throw themselves at him, forcing him to remember them. Arthur’s death was ingrained so deeply that he knew he had to prevent it somehow, it wasn’t supposed to end like that. 

He was terrified to say the least, he had survived the snowstorm and the wolf attack, but who was to say that he would get out of this? The O’Driscoll’s were brutal, it was no wonder that Kieran wanted out…Kieran. John found himself in front of another grave, he looks up to see Arthur speaking. 

“I wish we coulda’ done more for the boy,” he says sadly, “All the O’Driscoll’s showed him was the bitter nature of the world.” 

John’s eyes go wide in the dream, he had always been so rude to him because of the boy’s innocent crush on Arthur. He was jealous, as if his morals would allow him to fall for Kieran. Dutch had said it himself, Arthur was a little dumb, but he had a good set of morals on his shoulders. There was no reason for John to treat the boy the way he did ever since he had gotten to camp. _But why was he seeing this? What was he supposed to do?_

He eventually wakes up, he’s going in and out of consciousness for quite a while. It’s not until a couple minutes pass that he hears gunshots and he’s snapped into reality. He tries to speak, his voice hoarse, “Arthur is that you? Arthur, I’m right here!” he manages to say before the camp begins to fall into chaos. 

“Don’t let him get the boy! Hold him off and take him somewhere else!” the man who had captured him yells. 

John begins to kick the men who try to pick him up, “No! Get your hands off me, you bastards!” he yells managing to stall time for Arthur. If it truly was him, he’d get there before John got too tired to continue putting up a fight, he trusted him. 

Arthur locates the camp easily, he uses the trees as cover and starts aiming at multiple targets easily. Most men are hit and killed by the attack, obviously not prepared for it. Arthur keeps moving up, shooting still. He gets hit once which makes him grunt in pain. Soon, Arthur walks into the camp, pointing his gun at the last O’Driscoll. “Tell Colm that Dutch ain’t gonna be pleased about y’all kidnappin’ his golden boy. I reckon he will be dead soon. Because if Dutch ain’t goin’ for him, I sure as hell am.”

The O’Driscoll scutters off quickly, leaving Arthur with John who was tied up. “You alright, Marston?” Arthur rushes over to untie him. “Ah, shit, s’okay, kid.” Arthur immediately starts untying John. He thinks for a moment before pulling John into his chest, gently trying to shake him awake. He winces in pain at being shot in the arm, but he could care less. “Marston, you alright? You gotta respond to me, kid.” Arthur repeats himself, his voice is laced with concern and softness. He doesn’t want to startle the boy who seemed out of it. 

John can't even properly speak to him as he begins to ask questions. He can hear him but he’s just now fully able to stay alert. The first thing he does is pull Arthur to his level and unexpectedly plants a kiss on his lips. He held on for a few moments, he wasn’t expecting Arthur to kiss him back. 

He was doing so out of sheer adrenaline, the situation forcing him to do something about his emotions. Arthur was hurt, John was hurt, anything could happen and he wasn’t about to go out with the weight of his feelings for Arthur being unknown. It probably wasn’t a good idea to do this here and now, but at the moment, John didn’t give a damn. 


	4. Preventing the Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I respond to all comments! Negative ones will be ignored however, because I’m not asking for criticism. :)

Arthur is at a loss for words. He stares at John for a moment before snapping into realization. “C‘mon,” Arthur helps him into his feet and whistles for John’s horse Old Boy and his horse Mango who ended up following them to town without Arthur knowing. The horse he stole already galloped off when hearing gunshots, so he was thankful they followed. He helps John get on Old Boy and mount his horse as well. A million questions ran through his head, but none that he knew the answer to.

Arthur doesn’t say a word the entire ride. He makes sure to look beside him to see if John seemed aware of his surroundings, but that was it. His mouth was sealed shut. He’d never been stunned by John Marston before and this was all new. “You okay?” Arthur grumbled. He didn’t know what else to say, he just felt awkward. 

The ride was so silent that it almost made John want to break it a few too many times, but he didn’t know what to say. What was he supposed to say about it? ‘Hey, Arthur, I know this is practically illegal, but I’ve been harborin’ feelings for you even though I probably shouldn’t?’ Leave it to John to be stuck in this situation. 

John didn’t expect Arthur to be perfectly fine and content with the kiss right away. Hell, it had taken his own damn self a while to come to terms with his feelings. He knew what he was risking with that, but he didn’t regret it. “Hmm? Yeah, just glad to still be up and runnin’. How about you? Your arm’s bleedin’. D’ya know that?” He points out. 

“Yeah, ain’t nothin’ but a scratch,” Arthur replied. It’s another awkward silence until he finally breaks it again. “I’ll pretend it’s somethin’ you did out of adrenaline. Hell, call it a death wish. Jus’ for both of our sake. I know you ain’t meant it,” Arthur comments. He speeds up into a trot. 

The two don’t exchange much of anything else. Arthur wonders if John really was an invert. Nobody really talked about ‘inverts’, wasn’t even a popular thing at that time. Arthur was more focused on John being alright. Even if things were awkward.

John’s heart shatters, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he had meant every bit of it. Of course after something like that, he simply had to play along. “Yeah, course I didn’t mean it,” he mutters. The rest of the ride was silent and they eventually returned to their own camp and were greeted by Dutch, who helps John off of his horse. 

“What in the hell happened to you, boy?” He asks, concerned. He had seen John hurt one too many times in such a short time span. 

“The O’Driscoll’s kidnapped me, said it was revenge,” he managed to say, “I just need some rest.” He was exhausted, he was already hurt beforehand and this had just made it worse. He ended up passing out on Dutch and waking up in bed the following day. He sits up, wincing because of the bruising at his side. 

Lenny was with him again and so he decides to speak, “Is Arthur okay? He got hurt in the shootout,” he asks. 

“Sure is, he’s resting in his camp,” Lenny smiles. “You should get some rest though, try not to worry about Arthur too much. You’re the one who keeps almost dying. Arthur’s been saving your ass a lot,” Lenny teases. He stands up to walk off, and soon Dutch enters.

“You alright, son? I know it’s been tough on you lately. I’m sorry that this happened to you, but I promise you. I have a plan. I will take Colm O’Driscoll to his grave. Unless Arthur does it before me. He was worried about you,” Dutch smiles. “He seems a little off though. Something happen between you two?”

“I would believe so,” Hosea interrupts, walking in. “What happened, John?”

“I uh...I thought we might not have made it out so...I kissed him,” John admits, “It weren’t my business, but it was spur of the moment. Haven’t you ever felt that way?” 

Hosea sighs, “S’pose you ain’t a kid anymore, but Arthur has feelin’s too. I’m sure he needs time and you gotta give him that.” John’s attraction to Arthur was no problem to anyone in the gang, except maybe Micah but he was just an asshole by nature. Outside of them, however, things weren’t as forgiving. He feared for the boy despite what he had said. 

In this, John turns to Dutch with the hope that he’d say something different. Was Arthur going to avoid him forever?

“When you feel better you should talk to him. You’re grown men, result your issues maturely. However, Strauss gave him something to do. He’s gonna go collect debts from people. You should probably wait after that, alright? We gotta be careful, Pinkertons are everywhere nowadays,” Dutch warns, he clasps a hand on John’s shoulder. “Arthur cares about you, nothing more to that. Romantic or not, he cares.”

“Why is he collecting debt?” Hosea questions. “He’s injured and Strauss should be doin’ it himself!” 

“Trust me, as much as I worry and wanna chew my ears off at Strauss’s debt issues, it makes us money. It’s also harmless to Arthur. Strauss says none of them would put up a fight. Said something about them being pitiful people. Not sure what he means by that,” Dutch mumbled the last part.

Arthur was packing up supplies into Mango’s saddle bag. He didn’t want to do these debt missions, in fact he despises collecting debt from desperate people. However, Arthur couldn’t stand sitting and doing nothing. He had to always be doing something. 

“He can’t go!” John yells as he starts to get up. 

“Now hold on there you need to to rest, boy,” Dutch says as he tries to set him back down in bed, “Besides no one’s stopping’ him, he’s already made up his mind. You know him better than anyone.” 

“I’ll have to stop him in anyway possible, I’m not lettin’ him die. I saw it when I was knocked unconscious by the O’Driscolls!” John protests as he stands up to put his shoes on. 

“Boy, you were knocked senseless, do you really think that dream was real!?” Hosea says. 

“It felt like it, I didn’t just see Arthur getting gravely ill and dyin’. I saw more than that, but I’ve gotta stop him,” just like that John is out and mounting Old Boy. 

Arthur had just left the camp, Mango’s tracks were fresh. He had just enough time to catch up and follow him. He watched from afar as he went up to houses until he reached one that seemed familiar. A man could be heard coughing inside, the slow shuffling of feet granted John enough time to run up. Just as the man opened the door John tackled Arthur in a hug and refused to let go. 

The two tumbled to the ground and John feigned a smile, “Fancy meeting you here, Morgan, I got sent out on a job and saw you so I thought I’d say hello.” 

Arthur doesn’t want to do this job. Something about how poor this family seemed made him dread it. As he waits for the door to open, he’s tackled to the ground. Arthur quickly realizes it's none other than… Little Johnny Marston. This boy had so much against him. First to wolves, second to kidnapped, third to kissing… Kissing him. Now this? 

“What in the hell? You crazy bastard, what are you doin’?!” Arthur manages to finally say. He’s stuck with John refusing to get off him. “I have to collect a debt, dumbass. Get off uh’me!” He demands, starting to move John off him. This boy was starting to confuse the hell out of him. “Why aren’t you restin’?!” Arthur realizes instead.

“You’ll thank me later, I assure you, but you can’t come to this house, Arthur, you’ll get sick,” he finally says as he stands up and helps him before beginning to push him away from the house. 

“One house ain’t gonna hurt, hell, we’ll send Micah to do it later. Let’s go,” he sounds as serious as possible, he couldn’t risk Arthur not believing him, “Come on now, do you not hear the sounds coming from inside, the man doesn’t need anything more on his plate. I’ll convince Strauss to let this one go.”

Arthur stares at him, confusion written on his face. “You tellin’ me Strauss was about to send me to my damn fate? Hey, boy!” Arthur yells to a boy who was doing his chores. “What’s your pa ill with?” He questions, wanting to know if he can believe John or not. 

“Uhm, well, he has tuberculosis,” the boy answers hesitantly. 

Arthur freezes at this. Jesus christ, he could’ve fucking lost his life. A slow death as well. Arthur is incredibly thankful that John just stopped him. He turns to look at the male, “I… Thanks, I owe you. You saved my life just now. I’m gonna beat Strauss’s sorry ass. I can’t believe he sent me to some sick man!” Arthur grunts in annoyance, but pauses when remembering John wasn’t even supposed to be standing. 

Arthur sighs in disbelief and hauls John over his shoulder, wincing in pain when remembering he was shot. “What did I tell you, Marston? Said to stay in bed, didn’t I?” He helps John onto Old Boy. “C’mon, reckon we can camp out near the shore underneath the bridge nearby. Ain’t want nobody seein’ us. I ain’t gonna throw you in the water either,” he mounts Mango and the two begin their short journey. It’s completely devoid of conversation. The tension from the kiss still evident. 

“I thought you’d think I was crazy,” John says when they arrive, finally diffusing the silence, “You’ve saved me twice, take this as repayment, you don’t owe me nothin’.” He remembered what Dutch had told him about resolving this on their own. He didn’t know if this was a good time to bring it up, but if they were going to spend the night alone, he might as well try and make some of the tension go away. 

“I’m sorry for what happened…” he begins, “And yet in a way m’ really not. I know what my place is and I’m content with our friendship, but if I tell you I meant it, I don’t want you to look at me different. I respect you, Arthur, and that’s why m’ lettin’ you know.” He was nervous to say the least, none of this was easy. 

Arthur doesn’t want to behave like a child. He was a grown man after all. “John…” He starts off. “I’ve never been right at feelin’s, I’ve never even known how to address ‘em. I ain’t gonna break down and call you a sinner, but I don’t know how to really… Address anythin’.” He pauses, taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“S’okay that you kissed me, I ain’t mad at you for that. I ain’t even mad. I jus’ don’t know what to say. I reckon it’s because it’s a situation I ain’t been in. Can’t say I’ve had a little brother figure kiss me before. I want to tell you the feelings are returned but I don’t know if they are. You were a kid back then, never looked at you differently. The true sin ain’t you kissin’ me, it would be if I liked you when you was just a kid. I’m not like that, John, kids are kids. I know you’re older now, so I need time is all. I don’t know anythin’ about how I feel towards you,” Arthur feels weird explaining himself. 


	5. Working Together and Catching Snakes

“It was just an innocent crush, you know how kids are. Didn’t think it’d last this long but I ain’t gonna force you to feel anything just because I said somethin’.” John admits, Arthur was a good man and everyone who knew him would admit to that. He was more at ease now knowing that he hadn’t offended Arthur. No one really did a lot of talking about feelings in the gang. Except maybe Abigail who just wouldn’t leave John alone. 

“So now you get why I’m always pissed off when you bring up Abigail, I’m just mindin’ my business, giving’ her answers when she wants ‘em, that’s all,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, “Don’t know if I’ll ever actually like her like that, poor thing.” 

“I reckon you’d have better luck liking her than me. Ain’t exactly the best person to like. Seein’ as I’m focusin’ more on the gang. Jus’ don’t have time anymore to myself. Won’t say it’s anybody’s fault, I signed up for this life. Dutch saved me, ain’t gonna betray him,” Arthur sighs. He gently pats Mango who seemed to be sleepy as she walked.

“Micah is a different story. I don’t trust him at all. Apparently he got sent to jail for murder. Dutch wants me to go get him. Don’t wanna, but I gotta,” Arthur sighs. He really didn’t care about Micah, if anything Micah annoyed him more than anyone else. He was always such a judgmental asshole.

“And you shouldn’t, m’ just sayin. He’s manipulative and I know he’s just usin’ Dutch, he don’t care about any of us. I reckon if we find some dirt on him, Dutch’ll have to side with us,” Joh proposes, remembering the dream he had. He had stopped Arthur from contracting Tuberculosis, so Micah wouldn’t be a threat to him anymore, but Dutch was a different story. He had to stop him from going mad because of him. 

“Haven’t you noticed that Dutch is doin’ questionable things. He’s different and it’s all Micah’s fault,” Arthur was never one to question Dutch, at least not in the way John did. He knew that it would be difficult for him to sneak around behind his back, but John knew he’d come around to it. Making sure the gang was safe was his first priority, he had said it himself. 

“Sure, I’ve noticed a shift. Ain’t the same as he was. You think it’s really because of Micah? Why is he lettin’ some bastard who vanished and came back a few months ago get in his head? We’ve known him longer, he should come to us or Hosea for advice,” Arthur clenches his fists over the rein, “but how would we find him stuff out about him?”

Arthur thinks to himself for a moment. “Blackwater, that’s where it all began, come on, Marston. We gotta haul ass,” Arthur turns his horse around and urges her to go faster. Mango quickly gets into a gallop before taking off towards Blackwater. It was far, but it would be worth it.

John follows suit, they’d most likely have to ride through the night but if it helped save the camp and Dutch he didn’t mind it at all. If felt good to do this again. It had been a while since they had done something together that didn’t involve injury or kidnapping. They didn’t have to worry about any awkward tension either, for the most part, John was relieved. 

“You think we’ll actually find somethin’ he seems to cover up his tracks pretty well if Dutch or Hosea haven’t heard anythin’. Well other than the reason that he’s in prison right now,” John says, he hoped his visions led them somewhere and not to a dead end. 

“Dutch knows he murdered, that’s why we can’t use that,” Arthur explains. The two continue to ride along, finally they see Blackwaters sign. “We can’t just ride in without a disguise, wish we had Hosea for this kinda stuff… Let’s head to the tailor and get something new. Can’t be recognized.”

They head into the tailor, a plan in Arthur’s head now making more sense. “What would you like? Can’t go outside wearing those shabby clothes, huh?” The tailor smiles.

“My little brother Jim Milton needs to impress his wife, we’ll have something to match him, think you can do that? I’ll also take something as well,” Arthur says as polite as he can manage. 

“What’s your name sir?” The tailor asks as he walks over to find them clothes.

“Arthur Callahan,” Arthur lies. The tailor hands Arthur a blue collared shirt, and hands John an orange one as well. The two change and head outside. “Let’s get a hotel room, then we gotta go snoopin’ around about Micah.”

“Blue suits you,” he says with a smile as they head on over to the hotel. 

They’re greeted by the owner who seems friendly enough, “How can I help y’all today?” they ask.

“Just a room is fine,” John says without a second thought. 

“One for each of you? I have to apologize I’ve only got one room left in the entire hotel,” she says kindly, “It’s got two beds if that makes a difference.” 

“We’ll take it, we’re not stayin’ long anyway,” he looks over at Arthur nervously as they wait for the woman to give them the key to their room, “Thank you,” he says when he’s finally given the key. The two head up to the room and John lets out an awkward laugh. 

“You know, it could be worse,” He says. 

Arthur glares at John. “I’m not sharin’ a bed with you unless you go take a bath. You’re greasy and you’re gonna make the sheets smell like it,” he warns, pushing John out of the room. He shakes his head to himself once John is gone. “Dumb bastard really thinks I’d make him sleep on the floor just for crushin’ on me. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Arthur spends his time on the bed writing in the Journal. _Nothing is really going as planned. I almost got sick today. Tuberculosis. It’s a bad thing. Heard folks die slowly from it, but it’s painful. Almost reminds me of Uncle and his Lumbago. John and I are alright, we’re in Blackwater trying to find information to bring down Micah. He kissed me not long ago, so it’s a bit awkward between us. However, I think the boy is relaxing now that he knows I’m not mad for it. I never believed that loving the same sex was a bad thing. But folks judge everyone._

John sighs in relief as he walks into the bathroom. There was a tub set up and although he couldn’t swim it wasn’t like he would drown in a bathtub. Dutch would use that against him a lot, but when John got the luxury of a warm bath, he wouldn’t pass it up because of a little fear of water. He finished up and dried himself off before putting on his clothes and going back into the room. 

“Why’s everyone always sayin’ I’m greasy? It weren’t my fault we switch up our camp every now and then,” John complains as if that made it more difficult to shower and not the situations that he had recently been involved in, “It’s been so long I almost forgot what a bed felt like. Why are we practically all wanted criminals again?” 

“Dumb question, Marston. We’re outlaws, did the wolves give you amnesia too?” Arthur retorts. “Just keep to the side of the bed. I ain’t gonna wake up on the floor with you hogging the damned blankets. If you don’t remember, Dutch had us camped up in the same tent when you was younger… You ended up hoggin’ the blankets and kicking me throughout!” 

Arthur rubs his head in annoyance after his rant. “Keep your legs… Strapped to your body. Or I will chop ‘em off,” he warns before finally scooting over to leave room for John. He swore this boy had a temper even in his sleep. It was ridiculous to think about.

“You ain’t gonna do that,” John mumbles as he noticed how much space he’s given him. He was a rather active sleeper, he never could keep still, “and it gets cold, Arthur, what do you want me to do? Catch hypothermia? I almost caught it once!” He reaches for the blanket, wrapping himself in it just enough so that it left some for Arthur. 

“I ain’t got no control over my feet when I’m asleep, it weren’t my fault. The wolves ain’t give me amnesia either! I was just sayin’ this is kinda comfortable, maybe in another life but not this one,” he adds as he gets comfortable, it’s not long before he’s nodded off and somehow ended up pressing himself against Arthur for warmth almost like a cat would. 

Arthur takes awhile to fall asleep, he’s never been much of a sleeper. Sure, he can nap, but he’s never used to a good sleeping schedule. He feels John press against him, as if deprived of heat. John’s cold feet touch his leg, and he immediately realizes how cold John is. Sure, it was cold, but Arthur hadn’t realized it was until John reminded him. Most men would push their buddies off, hell, most wouldn’t even be sleeping with another man. 

He can’t bring himself to shove John away. It didn’t matter anyway. As long as John didn’t kick him, he didn’t care. Finally, Arthur manages to drift off into sleep. It’s not until early morning that his eyes crack open, realization washing over him when hearing John sniff. John was still pressed against him, seeking as much heat as he could. The boy was literally entangled into him, legs over Arthur’s legs, arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist, and head buried into his chest. _Jesus christ._ Arthur’s not sure what to do, so he does nothing. John was always a heavy sleeper, so he’d figure that John would take awhile to awaken.

John normally slept alone so this was never really an issue for him, he didn’t mean to do this purposely. He just naturally sought warmth from whatever source he could get it. He woke up after a while and opened his eyes only to meet Arthur’s chest. He looks up, his eyes instantly widening after realizing that it wasn’t just another dream. 

“Oh,” he says as he sits up, removing himself from Arthur and making some space between it, “Uh, good mornin’.” He adds quickly as he runs a nervous hand through his hair, “That’s why I sleep alone, don’t take it personally.” He was like that since he was a child, his craving for affection only adding to it. 

“S’okay,” Arthur yawned, not bothered. “Didn’t mind as much. Least you didn’t kick me.” He sits up, ruffling his own hair. “Little Johnny Marston, are you seriously nervous? It weren’t your fault that you were cold. You really think I’d hold that against you?” Arthur seems confused at John’s reaction. He doesn’t take it personal. John was just flustered. Arthur may have been oblivious to his feelings, but now he knew them quite well.

A moment of realization hits when remembering why John would be embarrassed. It was almost a reminder. He liked him. It made Arthur tense when remembering. “Sorry,” he finally says, feeling bad for making snarky comments without truly considering John’s feelings. “I understand that you… Like me… But, I really wish you didn’t. I don’t mind bein’ around you. Hell, you’re a lot of fun to be with. However, this is makin’ you awkward. You’re probably hurtin’ right now too. ‘Fraid it would be better for the both of us if you jus’ let those emotions go.”


	6. A Stinging Sensation

“Arthur...Why are _you_ tellin’ _me_ what to do with **_my_ **emotions? If I could just shut em’ off I’d have done that already! Now I don’t care if you never wanna think about feelin’s again, but I’m sure as hell not letting go of somethin’ I’ve been holding onto for years in an instant!” John is absolutely fuming, it was one thing if Arthur didn’t return his feelings, he’d come to terms with it after a while, but for him to ask that he quit liking him? It was something John couldn’t tolerate. 

“For years, Morgan, _years,_ I begged that my feelin’s towards you would pass, it’s not easy! I can’t believe you’re sayin’ that to me!?” John expected to feel slightly embarrassed or flustered around him, it was what came with feelings towards someone and they might not stop immediately, he couldn’t just make it stop. 

Arthur doesn’t hesitate to stand right in front of him, his face changing to slight irritation. “You think I wanted you to like me?! Ain’t nobody’s fault but your own. You were the one who fueled a false fantasy for years. Couldn’t you have realized when you was a kid that it’s impossible?! You saw what happened with Mary. It ain’t the same anymore. I don’t even know what it’s like to love nobody like that! You can’t just be selfish and expect me to understand how you feel, if you can’t understand how I do!”

“I get that this might hurt. I get that completely, you shit! I’ve had unrequited love before too, ain’t nothin’ special. You act like I’ve never been exposed to a one-sided crush. Mary let me the hell down. I kept pinin’ for her even after she left me. Where did that leave me, Marston?! You saw how long it took, but relationships… I can’t do ‘em!” Arthur finishes yelling, glaring at John. The space between them suffocated, the two easily about three inches apart. Arthur stops himself from yelling more when seeing John’s reaction. “Ah, shit… I—John, I’m sorry. You can’t help it…”

John was stubborn, he was never one to back down or cower away from something. He and Arthur had had their fair share of disagreements before, it was nothing new. Most people would have been crying their eyes out in a situation like this, but not John. If someone barked, he barked back louder. “You’re talkin’ to me like I’m stupid, Morgan! I know I was a kid! I wasn’t gonna do anythin’ about it, didn’t even think I’d be in this situation now!” he yells, it was evident that he was hurt and angry. 

There was that hint of fury in his eyes, just enough that it could intimidate the hell out of the roughest man. He noticed how close Arthur had gotten to him, “I didn’t ask you for a relationship, Arthur, you’re the one jumpin’ into it! I said I was fine with our friendship, I just needed time, but you’re bringin’ it up every chance you get!” He didn’t understand why Arthur hadn’t just dropped the subject when he apologized that morning, he didn’t have to mention John’s feelings again. 

Arthur is almost frozen when hearing this. John had a point and Arthur didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he even brought it up, but it kept itching at him. Like he had to mention it. It was all stressful and dwelling in him. Arthur usually didn’t have a lot on his mind but this definitely topped even Dutch and Micah. What was he supposed to say now?

He finally makes eye contact with John. “It’s botherin’ me. I don’t know why but it’s botherin’ the hell outta me. It’s diggin’ in way more than anythin’ else. I ain’t even know why. I’m not good at… This stuff. I’m bad at it. You’re right, I’m the damn bastard bringin’ it up. I wish I could tell you why too.” Arthur looks away from him. 

John feels bad, he wasn’t the only person involved in this. Of course Arthur had to feel something about it, it might not have been what would have been the best case scenario in John’s mind, but he was still human. His expression softens a little as he reaches up to move Arthur’s head so that he’s looking at him, “You’ve got a right to feel things just as much as I do, it means you’re usin’ your brain or heart or however you phrase that,” he says. 

“Look at us, arguin’ about this, I’ve had years to come to terms with myself, but I just dropped this on you a short while ago. I can’t expect you to feel anythin’ or know what to do,” it felt so odd to not be arguing with someone, but Arthur didn’t deserve to be yelled at anymore. There was truth to both of their arguments and it was why it took them so long to hear each other out without a little bit of heat. 

The moment John’s hand makes contact with his face, it burns. The feeling is a stinging one, as if it was different all of a sudden. John has touched him before, but Arthur felt nothing. This was different. The sting wasn’t painful, it was jittery. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it. He couldn’t yell anymore. His eyes are on John’s but it’s painfully hard to not move away.

Arthur clears his throat, “Okay,” is all he manages to say. He backs away from John, finally getting some air in his lungs. What was he supposed to say? The touch was so small and simple, but it made him react a little differently. John was starting to drive him slowly but surely… Insane. “C’mere for a second, Marston,” he finally manages to say. 

John steps forward, the energy had changed somewhat, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the change was. It wasn’t tense anymore, at least not in the way it was after they had kissed. He didn’t know what Arthur wanted, he wasn’t used to him being spontaneous. That was always John’s job.

“What is it?” he asks, he doesn’t sound angry anymore, he’s just confused. He doesn’t quite know what to expect and the uncertainty is something he doesn’t enjoy. He tries not to get his hopes up. _Why was he thinking of getting his hopes up? What was Arthur going to do? Kiss him? Hug him? He had said it himself, he wasn’t sure he could do any of that._

Arthur needed to make sure. Needed to know if something had changed. “Don’t even question me, just do as told. Marston, do anythin’ but just make physical contact. I need to know somethin’, or if I’m actually sick.” Arthur was starting to get worried about that stinging sensation he had before. Was it a fever?

He just needed to make sure. John was already bold, so he doubted the boy would question him. At that moment, the last thing on his mind was outlawing and Dutch. It wasn’t what was bothering him. However, he needed closure on something else.

“Don’t tell me I was too late,” John mutters as he moves his hand up to Arthur’s forehead, “You ain’t got a fever or anythin’.” Arthur was fine as far as John knew, but he kept his hand there for a few moments just to make sure. He was acting suspicious after their conversation and John didn’t quite know what to make of it. He had touched him once to turn his head towards him, but why was he asking him to do it again. 

John gives Arthur a sly look before pulling Arthur down by the collar of his shirt and kissing him quickly. If that didn’t answer his burning questions, he didn’t know what would. “You’re not sick, Arthur Morgan, I know you ain’t,” he says as he stands in front of him. This was as good as any a time to be bold. 

Arthur’s not even surprised. He expected John to be that bold, it was who he was after all. However, the stinging feeling was back. It was an odd sensation, but it also made things a little clearer. Maybe, just maybe, he actually was starting to enjoy John Marston’s company. In those terms, of course. It wasn’t Mary, no, not at all. Mary was shy and complained. John was bold and aggressive. The two were a mismatch, yet, he preferred it that way. 

He liked that John wasn’t a copy of Mary. He liked that John didn’t complain about who Arthur was. Arthur liked that John didn’t ask him for favors, he also liked that John would fight back when needed. John wasn’t helpless, he was strong and skilled. John also was more trustworthy. It had been years and John still was always on Arthur’s perspective of things. Arthur’s simply staring at him, but finally, with slightly shaky hands, he reaches to gently cup John’s face, as if it could break. It was strange how he was scared to hurt the sudden moment of confidence. Arthur leans to kiss him, nothing pressuring, almost as if it was an experiment to see how this feels. It wasn’t bad. Wasn’t Mary. He liked that.

John is taken aback, sure he himself was rash and impulsive but he had never expected Arthur to do this. He doesn’t mind it, clearly, but he can’t believe that the calm and calculated man he knew would ever initiate a kiss. He returns it, letting him take it as slow as he wants yet still deepening it a little. The kiss is a mixture of their two differing personalities and yet it still feels right. 

He knew that he couldn’t make Arthur do anything, and it was why he was willing to wait. He didn’t care how long it took him, he just knew that he made him happy regardless of what they were. Everything was fine to him, this was fine. He lets him take control for once, letting him figure this all out. 

Arthur finally pulls back after a moment, the feeling new to him. John isn’t like other people he’s kissed. He tastes slightly sweet, but also a little bitter. In a sense, it was interesting. “C’mon, we got work to do,” he gives an awkward pat on the shoulder before collecting his things. John still seems starstruck, but it’s… Endearing.


	7. A Rat, a Deer, and a Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s all the updates for today. I update once a week with multiple chapters, as I write with my partner Angie. (Taedorokis). I’m usually busy but I won’t be abandoning this work! I hope you all enjoy this weeks chapter. I believe the story will end once we hit 160 pages on google docs!!

The two head out and immediately make a Beeline towards the saloon. He knew better than anyone that was where secrets would be spilled or whispered. The two hang out at the bar for awhile, listening in on people’s conversations. “That incident that happened in Blackwater feels like a decade ago. Micah Bell is slow with reporting back to us,” a Pinkerton states. Arthur widens his eyes when realizing it was a Pinkerton. 

“I knew he was a snake,” John whispers, “That bastard…Do you think he’s workin’ with em’?” There was always something off about the man, no one really trusted him but Dutch. Hearing his name come from a Pinkerton just made it worse. The man had been with them for just a few months, everything was starting to make sense even though nothing had been truly proven. 

“It’s been too quiet, you think he’s gonna betray us?” another one says. John looks over at Arthur, he didn’t want to speak too much so that they wouldn’t get caught snooping around. They continue to listen, trying to get solid evidence and to get Dutch to believe it.

“Yeah, he revealed where their last camp was, said their new camp was somewhere near Valentine,” the Pinkerton adds. His friend snarking in response.

“We should head that direction tomorrow. Ask the towns people if they’ve had anything weird going on.”

“God damn it, we’ve got to go,” Arthur moves away from the bar, and him and John mount their horses. “We gotta warn Dutch, c’mon!” Arthur spurs Mango who takes off into a gallop. Mango snorts in response, waiting for Old Boy to catch up. “I can’t believe this. We’ve got a damn rat and Dutch actin’ like he’s a good spirited guy. I knew he was shady.”

“I never liked him, why do you think he found a snake in his boot? Cause I put it there,” he laughs after catching up to Arthur and Mango. They had a headstart for now, which meant that they would hopefully make it before the Pinkertons did. The two were supposed to return to the camp a day ago, but hopefully the information kept them from any trouble. 

After a while the two practically crash into the camp and John quickly jumps off of Old Boy, “Where’s Dutch!? We can’t waste time, we gotta tell him somethin’!” he says as he makes his way to Dutch’s camp. 

“Well you’re a sight for sore eyes, there’s somethin’ different about you. What is it?” he begins to say but John cuts him off. 

“The Pinkertons know where we are. We gotta go, just trust us for once, Dutch. If you give a damn about us, you’ll listen, Micah’s been rattin’ is out to them,” John doesn’t beg, he’s just as aggressive and hot-headed as he always is. 

“Excuse me? You mean to tell me Micah is still in jail? You’re going to leave him there? Arthur I told you to get him. You two have been gone for awhile, and yet you think you can ride up in here like a pack of wolves, and demand me to listen?!” Dutch snapped.

“Pinkertons are coming, we need to listen to them Dutch,” Hosea realizes.

“John ain’t lyin’, Dutch. You known us for awhile, ain’t nobody gonna be disloyal or lyin’ to you. We gotta get out of here. Jus’ listen to us,” Arthur adds in, stepping in front of John. For some reason, Dutch raising his voice at John made him instantly tense. It made him assert himself so that Dutch couldn’t put John down.

John is surprised by this, usually screaming matches between Dutch and himself weren’t interrupted by anyone. They lasted until one of them got tired or had to do something and they would usually end with John being scolded and going to Arthur for reassurance. He had never stepped in for him unless things got really ugly and it seemed like John would be the one to fully snap. 

“We were gone tryna help the gang out,” John retorts, “Micah’s in jail cause he deserves it. He murdered someone and is off doin’ god know what behind our backs with the Pinkertons. Don’t you think that mean somethin’?” He looks up at Arthur and nods his head, showing him that it’s okay, it wasn’t hurting him but he appreciated the gesture. 

Arthur backs off at this, his calmness returning. “We should just go. It’s not worth fightin’ over this. We have women in this camp, Dutch. Ain’t that important?” Arthur asks, still slightly in front of John. “You know I almost got sick, right? Strauss sent me to a guy that had Tuberculosis. Then what? I would’ve been dyin’ slowly. Guess that don’t matter though.”

“What? Why did he do that?” Dutch questions.

“I have no idea, but it was an eye opener. I ain’t willin’ on letting some random guy who just joined… Make so many damn mistakes and get us all in constant trouble with the damned Pinkertons. If you really ain’t gonna evacuate, then you’ve lost it,” Arthur speaks up. He looks over at Hosea who finally seems to understand the situation at hand.

“Pack up, we’ve got to go, folks!” Hosea demands.

John sighs in relief before starting to help pack up the camp. It was a nice area but safety came before anything. It was a shame they hadn’t spent much time there. He had managed to avert two situations that would likely mess up everything he knew. Once they’re alone, John seems to be glued to Arthur’s side just as he always was. 

“Thanks for listenin’ to me, and for not lettin’ the old man chew me out back there. I guess I owe you a few if you’re ever being mauled by bears or somethin’,” he says, not being able to keep the snarkiness out of the gratuitous sentence. John’s mind wanders for a moment after that, and the thought that they still weren’t in the clear rose. Two of the things he had seen in the dream had been proven to be real. Did that mean all of them were? The thought of all they had to do completely defeated the good feelings he felt after the past day and he didn’t know if it was evident or not despite his best efforts.

“I reckon you’d do the same for me. Come on, we should go our own way and pack. Suppose we can sit at the campfire before we go. Heard Hosea sayin’ we will head out tomorrow morning,” Arthur gestures to the direction of the tents. He turns to his tent and soon comes back after packing his things into the horse cart.

It’s a few hours later that he sits at the fire, eating some stew. John wasn’t around, but Arthur just assumed he was sleeping. He leans against a tree and tilts his hat over his eyes, blocking out the flickering of the sun. He drifts off into sleep after a while. 

John packs his things away and remembers what Arthur had told him about the campfire. He notices that he’s fallen asleep and doesn’t quite have the heart to wake him up. However, he does feel the sudden impulse to at least try and get his attention. 

He pulls the hat off of him, curious to know if that’ll be all it takes for him to wake up, “Arthur…” he says and nudges him with enough force to make an impact. He wasn’t about to change up and be gentle, “Why’d you tell me to come over here when I was done if you were gonna fall asleep!?” he complains. 

John yelling easily wakes him up. “You bastard,” Arthur grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What do you want, Marston? Can’t you see I’m sleepin’? You could’ve waited till morning!” Arthur sighs in defeat. “Ah shit, I said to meet later didn’t I? Fine, my bad, but I ain’t stayin’ up too long.”

“Gettin’ old after all. I honestly can’t remember why I asked to meet here. Too tired to think ‘bout it,” Arthur grabs his hat from John, once again putting it over his eyes. “Still awake, Marston, don’t think I’m sleepin’... Nah, I can’t even lie, I’m gonna end up fallin’ asleep,” Arthur chuckles to himself. 

John groans in frustration, “You ain’t even that old. Uncle, now that’s old,” he says as he takes the hat again and holds it away from him. 

“You’d think I’d be important enough for you to remember why you called me out here in the first place. Quit teasin’ me Morgan or you’re not gettin’ the hat back,” he threatens as he looks over at him. He didn’t know if Arthur was being serious or not, but he wouldn’t let him get away with it regardless. 

Arthur doesn’t hesitate to hit John with his elbow. “Leave my hat alone, you little shit,” he warns, grabbing it from him and placing it to tilt over his eyes. He shifts in his place, letting out a relaxed sigh. “We make a pretty good team, you and me. Jus’ without the wolves involved that is. I wanted to tell you that. I know things ain’t been right between us, but I hope you know I’m doin’ most of these things for you. Not just this camp.”

“My entire life has been dedicated to this camp. Reckon I’d spent my vacations with the gang if I had the choice. Jus’ want you know that… You, uh, you… You by my side ain’t so bad no more. Anyway, I don’t know what else to say so… That’s all, weren’t my idea at first, but I shouldn’t be ‘fraid to tell you things,” he mumbled. Tiredness evident in his voice. 


	8. Flickering Fires and Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight nsfw, just kidding and hickeys !!

John doesn’t quite know what to say, “The wolves ain’t gettin anywhere near me anymore,” he says with a chuckle, “You’ve shown that. Saved my ass twice and probably countless times when we were kids.” 

“I wasn’t ever gonna ask you to sacrifice the camp for me, you know? I know how much you care, maybe a little too much, but that’s just who you are, Arthur,” he looks off into the crackling fire contemplating for a moment. He then reaches over to take the hat off of Arthur’s face again, no one was around and most everyone was asleep. He really liked kissing him, and it was why he decided to be so bold once more. His kisses were never really gentle, they were often a little more rash and sudden and this was no exception. He leans in to kiss him, he liked the way his lips felt, not exactly soft but still nice on his own. 

Arthur’s going to say something to the extent of his hat being taken, but he’s taken aback when John kisses him. It’s slowly but full of confidence. Arthur’s body reacts by itself, and he slowly tilts his head to catch John better in the kiss. His stomach has a stinging sensation again. John’s taste remembered instantly. Bitter and sweet.

A mix he was growing to like. John’s skilled with his mouth, which made Arthur wonder where he practiced. His kiss is slower than John’s, seeing as he’s still tired. He’s not sure how he feels towards John, but pushing him and yelling at him didn’t seem the proper way of replying. His body seemed to decide by itself. Sweet and bitter… Bitter and sweet?

John could get used to this, he was afraid that he might not have been met with the same enthusiasm. Arthur proved him wrong though, he was met with the taste of the whiskey that still lingered from that morning. He didn’t mind it, he actually enjoyed it as it fit Arthur well. The smell of the smoke from the fire had made its way onto his clothes as John pulls away and pulls the collar of Arthur’s shirt back. 

He hesitates for a moment and looks up at him, his eyes asking for permission before sucking at the skin on Arthur’s neck. It’s only a few hickies that are left behind, not enough to be considered extreme or highly noticeable, but they were there. He doesn’t seem embarrassed, but then again, he hardly ever was. 

Arthur hesitates to agree, looking at John as if he’s questioning the moment. However, he gives in, letting John lean up to start kissing and sucking at his neck. The feeling isn’t one he’s unfamiliar with, but different when it’s John doing it. A low grunt is received from John’s actions, and Arthur slightly tilts his head for better access.

He’s tired, almost a drunken tired. He’s probably going to be out of it in the morning. “Marston,” he starts to calmly say, his voice almost vibrating. “I gotta sleep, Marston,” he pulls back from him. “We will talk tomorrow, right now we both need sleep, okay?” Arthur replies. 

“Mm’kay,” John agrees before settling himself down and getting comfortable, nodding off to sleep immediately after closing his eyes. The following morning they wake up with enough time to make it to their next destination before nightfall. John is helping the others finish putting away some final things, Arthur wasn’t with him when he woke up, but that man never could keep still. 

He finally finishes up and goes to find Arthur only to find that he’s talking with Dutch. It seems important and so instead of approaching them he simply listens in to the conversation going on between the two from afar. 

“Mornin’ Arthur, did you get enough sleep last night? I don’t want you fallin’ asleep on the road now,” he says, greeting the man. 

“I suppose so,” Arthur yawns, still out of it. He stretches his arms back a little, before making eye contact with Dutch who was smirking at him. “What?”

“Seems like you had fun last night,” Dutch notions to his neck. Arthur furrows his eyebrows, cluelessness on his expression. “Don’t you know who you left with, boy?! Don’t tell me your drunk and having sex with people?”

“No, of course not!” Arthur retorts, he’s trying to remember what happened. _John._ That little rat caught him off guard… “I’ll be back,” Arthur quickly heads over to John, grabbing him by the collar before he scrambles away. “John Marston…”

“I didn’t do nothin’!” he yells, ready to elbow whoever is holding him back in the face until he turns to see Arthur, “Let me go, I wasn’t gonna hit you, maybe. What do you want from me?” John fully faces him and tries to figure out why Arthur is so riled up. 

It’s a few moments later that it hits him, “Oh shit…” he says, “Looks like you had fun. Who did that? You got yourself a lady or somethin’?” He knows it’s his fault, but to the rest of the gang the nature of their relationship wasn’t exactly out in the open. “So what were you gonna say, Morgan?” he adds. 

Arthur is glaring at him, his expression fades to one of slight irritation before he smacks the back of John’s head. “I’m drownin’ you the second we arrive at the new camp,” Arthur warns, walking off to his horse wagon. Hosea sits with him and they soon head off. Him and Charles stumbled across the new camping area one day when riding around hunting.

They soon arrive hours later at the new camp. It’s near the lake this time, which provides more food options. Arthur unpacks his things, heading over to Dutch. “So, how are you likin’ it here, Dutch?” He asks the older male who seems distracted by a book.

“I can actually think here, it’s a lot better. So, what are we going to do about Micah?” Dutch questions.

“Leave him in jail?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.

“Possibly, I need you and John to scout Rhodes. It’s a new town nearby. Rent a hotel room for the night, just come back with something to report,” Dutch waves him off.

“Why am I always gettin’ paired with Marston?!” Arthur yelled after Dutch, who ignores him. 

John walks up to Arthur, Dutch had told him about their job beforehand and so he had been preparing for it while Dutch handled things. It served to let Arthur cool off a little as well. “Looks like you ain’t getting rid of me,” he teases. 

“Weren’t you the one sayin’ that we weren’t so bad workin’ together? Where’s that spirit now? Don’t tell me you changed your mind,” he questions, his tone still the same teasing tone that he had earlier. He looks over at Arthur, trying to keep himself from losing any hope that he really could grow to like him back as much as John did. 

“Sure, I did say that, but Dutch is doin’ this just because he knows we’re gettin’ closer-” Arthur is interrupted by Bill who seems to get in front of John. 

“You really what they is whisperin’? You really an invert?” Bill whispers in shock. “Is he?” He questions Arthur. “I mean, we was always questionin’ if you were because you ain’t shown interest in girls… But is you really one?”

Arthur seems a little off when hearing that. The way Bill was treating John like some magical creature was… Disturbing. What was wrong with liking the same sex? He never understood it. “Knock it off, dumbass, ain’t nothin’ new about if someone likes the same sex. Why the hell are you in his business?”

Bill backs off at that, still eyeing John. “Whatever, piss off, Morgan!” 

“Thanks,” John says with a grateful smile. He didn’t understand why people had to stick their noses in his business. Nobody seemed to care or at least mentioned that they cared until Bill decided to open his mouth. Confrontation didn’t scare him, but this one was just irritating. 

“You always have my back, I appreciate that,” he lets himself be vulnerable for a moment before beginning to head over to Old Boy, “Anyway, I’m done bein’ mushy, we should get goin’ cause if there are no more rooms left we’ll be done for.” No one in the camp had ever confronted him about his preferences before, he didn’t know how he would have reacted and because of that he was glad that Arthur had stepped in. 

“Alright, let’s go then,” Arthur walks up to Mango, petting her and mounting her. Arthur spurs Mango, only enough to make her start cantering. The two canter beside each other, exchanging a few more words, the conversation slowing when they were closer to town. “Alright, we need to pay for the hotel room.”

“Take this,” Arthur hands him two dollars. “Use that to pay for two rooms. Let’s hope they actually have two rooms this time. Reckon I don’t wanna become someone’s victim,” he turns Mango before heading over to the saloon. It’s not long that he notices a drunken Sheriff walk in. “Hello, mister,” Arthur greets. “What might your name be? I’m new to this town.”

  
“Sheriff Gray, nice to meet you!” The sheriff excitedly chirps.

“Arthur Callahan,” Arthur shakes his hand.

John walks into the hotel and asks for two rooms. He figured Arthur should have some space as well since this was all new to him. They couldn’t be joined at the hip all of the time. When he receives the keys he thanks the man that hands them to him and leaves to find Arthur. 

He finally enters the saloon to find Arthur at the bar sitting next to what seemed to be the town Sheriff. “Welcome to town Mister Callahan. You move here alone?” he asks. 

John walks up to them, “I got em’ Arthur,” he says before looking at the sheriff, “My name’s Jim, it’s nice to meet you.” He shakes the man’s hand and takes a seat on the opposite side of Arthur to listen in on the conversation. 

“The Braithwates are the scum of this earth! Bunch of inbred kids and a hag! Disgusting really, our family has been feuding with them for awhile. They’re a buncha murderers…” The sheriff goes on and on about the feud between the two, leaving Arthur in a state of annoyance. 

Arthur listens still, gathering as much information as he can about the two families. “I’m very sorry to hear that, sir,” he almost cringes when saying that. “But we best be on our way,” Arthur tips his hat at the male and grabs John by the wrist, dragging him outside. “That was the most weirdest drunken sheriff I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot.”

“Looks like they got their fair share of bad apples too,” John says, “Would probably be good to stay out of their way don’t you think?” He didn’t think that they needed any more trouble after the Pinkertons, they were already constantly on the run from them. 

“Why did Dutch want us to scout the place anyway? He lookin’ for someone? It’s never just to make sure we’re safe with him,” he points out. He didn’t know if Dutch had caught on to anything or if he genuinely believed that he and Arthur were good at helping out the camp with the information they gathered, it almost made him want to ask when they got back. 


	9. Our Quiet TIme

“I ain’t even sure yet. He didn’t tell me nothin’, just said to go get the job done,” Arthur replies, lighting a cigarette as they walk back to the hotel. “Were there two hotel rooms available? Either way, I just wanna get some shut-eye before returning to the camp,” Arthur explains.

They walk into the hotel, the man at the counter greeting them. “I’m afraid our shifts switched and the lady before did not alert me of two rooms being needed. We only have one available now, sirs. My deepest apologies…”

Arthur grunts, but mostly because he’s just tired. “We’ll just take the keys to that room then, and refund me a dollar.” 

“Okay, sir,” the hotel manager hands him back the money. “Enjoy your stay.”

“We will,” Arthur sighed, walking upstairs with John to their room. He takes off his boots once he’s inside the room, and sits on the bed. “Dutch seems different. He ain’t seemin’ to like my company… He saved me, now it feels like we ain’t close as we was. He’s still mad over Micah, as if he don't believe us,” he takes a frustrated deep breath. “He used to call me his son, reckon I won’t be called that for a while. I used to be a little jealous of you, y’know. You were always the golden boy for some reason. I was frustrated that I did everythin’ I can for him, but I was never favored as much as you. I pushed aside that jealousy, mostly because it weren’t your fault.” 

“You know I looked up to you,” John answers, “He thinks the world of you, Arthur, he’s just stupid right now because Micah got into his head. You always carried the team, you did everythin’ right. I saw it and I’m sure Dutch noticed it too, when he wasn’t caught up in the middle of one of my spur of the moment arguments.” He had always thought that Arthur was almost above him, he was just an honorable man and he was his equal. There was no reason to compare. 

“If he don’t believe us by now we’ll just have to turn up with some proof. It’s the only way the old man’ll get his head out of ass and listen to us,” he knew that a majority of the camp found Micah suspicious. It might have been because he was a newcomer but regardless of that, his entire self was off. There was something about the man that didn’t really sit well with anyone. 

Arthur sighs, not knowing what else to say. “Sure,” he says after a moment. “But I ain’t too sure about his plans anymore,” Arthur finally lays down on the bed properly, staring up at the ceiling. “The more I’m away from the gang, for some reason I feel like a normal person. I ain’t ever really felt somethin’ like this. It’s a feelin’ of humanity, I guess… If that makes any sense.”

It made sense to Arthur. When he was with the gang, they killed, they ran, they robbed. They would have occasional moments of happiness, but something would always go wrong. Arthur never used to think about being away from the gang, but now that he was able to do things with just him and John, he didn’t feel the same anymore. Something about not being on the run was… Calming.

“The idea of settlin’ down is nice, even if it were for a moment,” John replies, “I thought of runnin’ away once cause of that, I was never gonna do it, but I was just tired of all the outlawin’. I was a kid anyway I wasn’t gonna make it far.” He had never told anyone before, he didn’t think they’d take it very well. 

“I didn’t want to be a traitor and I felt I owed Dutch, besides you were always there to keep things interestin’,” he adds. There doesn’t seem to be a tension like he would expect in the room, Arthur doesn’t seem upset or angry. He feels like he can breathe, as if maybe, for just a moment he can escape their reality. 

Arthur nods slightly, taking in what John said. “You can lay down, Marston. Anyway, you gave up runnin’ away for me? You’re even more of a fool than I thought. Maybe the wolves didn’t have much to eat with that thick skull of yours. You coulda had a whole life to yourself… And you gave it for some asshole who ain’t even noticed you had feelin’s for ‘em?” 

He sighs, John sacrificed a change of freedom just because he had liked Arthur. “If you left back then, I’d probably be mad. I don’t think I’d label you a traitor… That’s for sure. I know you leavin’ would’ve been for some kinda good reason — I guess,” Arthur chuckles at the last statement.

“I’d be an unhappy bastard though, who knows what kind of trouble I might’ve gotten into alone. Even worse I mighta ended up with children I didn’t even want,” John thinks about how different things might have been. He knows he would have returned eventually, even though they were mostly getting into trouble the good times made John feel like he had a family. He lies back on the bed, turning to look at Arthur.

“Sure you were a part of it I guess, but the gang’s my family, the only one I’ve ever really known. You know that it’s kind of hard to leave it behind when it’s the only thing that’s made you feel like you belonged somewhere,” he admits, “So don’t take all the credit,” he teases. 

Arthur nods, his eyebrows knitted together. “Sure, I guess… I ain’t sure what to say. Sleep, will ya?” He shuffles in his current position and turns to face John who was looking at him. John seemed tired as well, strands of his black hair scattered over his face. 

Arthur gently tucks the strands of hair behind his ears. He keeps his hand on his cheek for a moment, ghosting a touch almost. “You sure are pretty, Marston,” he says in a hushed tone. It’s almost a surprise that those words came out of his mouth. It’s true as well, John was pretty. His brown eyes were always with a look of confusion, but a sense of pride. The scars that were stitched on his face didn’t make him less pretty. It made him look like a strong player in a dangerous game. His hair was a perfect length. Dare he say, it fit his personality, having long black hair.

It was slightly greasy but wasn’t tangled. Arthur didn’t know if he liked John, but his heart clenched when seeing John look so vulnerable beside him. He was thankful that John didn’t leave. If he left, Arthur would hold a distaste towards him. However, he didn’t, he stayed beside the gang. He wouldn’t dislike him for leaving, but because he’d miss him. This is because John listened to him. Arthur never told John his thoughts or insecurities about the gang, but now that he was, he knew John would always listen. Charles and John were the most understanding people he knew. John was angry, moody, even pessimistic, but he listened well. 

John had never heard anyone call him pretty, girls flirted with him often, but it never felt genuine. He didn’t really ever think of himself in that way, but he didn’t want to simply reject Arthur’s comment. For the first time, he felt it, he felt genuine confidence in himself that he hadn’t really experienced before. He doesn’t break the eye contact he held with Arthur, his eyes making him think of the ocean, they weren’t an exact blue and they had hints of green when the light hit them right. They were mesmerizing to him. 

Arthur seemed to look at him in such an endearing manner that John would probably never get used to. He’s tired and yet he doesn’t want to sleep, he’s almost afraid this will all be gone in the morning. Arthur felt like home, he knew he could never leave because he would never find someone that felt like that again. It was something that you could only find once. He reaches up to touch Arthur’s cheek, he can feel some stubble on his palm as he does so, “You’d better not stay up all night then, Arthur Morgan.” 

“You ain’t exactly the most romantic person, are you? I guess I’ll sleep then, Marston,” Arthur flinched when John touches his cheek. It’s all warm and the feeling of stinging is burning through him again. “Goodnight,” he finally says, almost a whisper. Arthur removes his hand from John’s cheek and closes his eyes. He doesn’t have the thought of Dutch and Micah in his head anymore, but he also knows Micah won’t leave them alone.

John was starting to never annoy him, which was rare. He always somehow kept the atmosphere _calm._ The way he acted around Arthur made him feel like he was worth something. Arthur struggled to keep up with life in general, but John was starting to shed light through the dark spaces in his own mind. It was scary to think about, but also relieving. 

John naturally gets closer to Arthur as the night passes, there’s a lot of skin to skin contact that would be overwhelming to some. He doesn’t mind it, in fact it’s comforting to him, Arthur meant stability to him, as long as he was around he knew that he’d have someone to count on. The following morning he wakes up before Arthur does, he’s found his way into his arms again and the warmth of blush creeps it’s way into his cheeks. He doesn’t pull away this time, he’s not embarrassed or afraid of Arthur’s reaction, at least not anymore. 

He can't help but admire Arthur, he simply liked looking at him and he knew that anyone with any common sense would agree that he was handsome. He had a strong jawline that sometimes sported a beard or was shaved clean. It was somewhere in between at the time but he looked good in anything. He had long, fluttery lashes that gently brushed his cheeks when he closed his eyes and his cheeks were dotted with countless freckles. They splattered across his face as if they were stars or paint that had been accidentally shaken off of a brush. John doesn’t understand why he had to feel an attraction to Arthur in the first place, but he’s glad that he did. He was the best man that John knew. 

Arthur begins to stir and John finally speaks up, “Good morning, Morgan,” he says, his voice still rough from sleep. 

Arthur sleeps quite well, despite the sounds of drunk people yelling in the alleyway. His eyes slowly crack open and he’s greeted by John saying something. He realizes he’s greeting him, and yet his cheeks slowly flush when realizing their position. They were practically pressed into each other. He slowly sat up and stretched his arms with a loud yawn. “Mornin’, Marston.”

“Haven’t slept that good in a while, anyway, m’ gonna have to ruin the moment and say we gotta get ready to go. Dutch ain’t gonna have the patience—“ Arthur is interrupted when hearing the townspeople now screaming. 


	10. O'Rat, Don't Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delayed chapters, it was exam week.

“Where are you, Cowpoke?! Leaving your own brother to get hung! You’re insane!” A familiar voice yelled.

“Micah,” Arthur widens his eyes and quickly puts on his boots and hat. He grabs his belt and weapons. “Marston, quick get up,” he says anxiously. 

“Damn it,” John whispers when he realizes why Arthur is so riled up. He scrambles to get ready, not paying much mind to anything else, they needed to handle this before it got dangerous. 

“How’d he even escape? I hope Dutch didn’t do somethin’ stupid,” he says as they head out. They encounter Micah and John instantly scowls, there were a lot of things that could turn his day upside down and this man was a number one offender. He knows that if it wasn’t for him, Arthur would have freed Micah. 

“If you were in jail it was cause you deserved it,” John points out, “We don’t tolerate traitors around here unless you can tell us what in the hell you were doin’ rattin’ us out to the Pinkertons.” He had zero remorse for the man at this point, he was a threat to his family and he couldn’t let that slide. 

Arthur immediately pulls out his two pistols, pointing it directly at Micah. He could easily shoot him there and then. “You ain’t wanted here, Micah,” Arthur practically growled the entire sentence. His voice dark and stern. His eyes even darkened with utter anger and annoyance, eyebrows knitted. His entire stance was intimidating. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, other than hangin’ in front of a crowd.”

“Oh, cowpoke, that’s so sweet of you. You were thinking about me! I thought about you too, every single damn day in that cell. About how you somehow managed to convince Dutch to abandon me,” Micah chuckles. “We ain’t gonna have a stand-off here, dumbass. There’s kids, you want them to see my brain splattered?”

“Like you care,” Arthur hissed. “You’re jus’ a murderer. Reckon you’d probably kill one of them if you could.”

“You aren’t wrong, and aww, big boy Marston and you are together. Always knew you guys were queer,” Micah laughed harder.

“Very funny,” Arthur snapped.

“You ain’t got a right to speak,” John snaps, if there weren’t so many people around, he would have done something drastic, “At the end of the day you’re still just a snake, aren't you? Comin’ to the middle of town to settle things.” John moves forward, his gun drawn.

John had never seen Arthur this angry with someone, it was always himself that would lose his temper easily. This was one of those times, but tensions were high regardless. The way Micah was speaking could result in them getting thrown in jail instead, this wasn’t something to bring up in a place like this. He had to have had an intention behind it. 

“You think you’re brave all of a sudden, boy? I’ve got a nice little lake in mind that’ll make all that go away,” Micah threatens with a sly smile. 

“Take this somewhere else or stay away from us all,” John retorts.

“Well, you guys sure as hell don’t have a warm welcome!” Micah growled.

“What did you expect? A damn war hero’s welcome party? You ain’t nothin’ but trouble. You should just leave. What’s done is done. I want to kill you here and now, but I can’t,” Arthur sighs. “Because I ain’t a low-life murderer, scum like you.”

“Awh, your words hurt, _brother,_ they do,” Micah says dramatically. “I’ll leave now, but you’ll see me again. You sure as hell will. Hey Sheriff, these two boys are queers! Saw them blowin’ each other out at that hotel over there, think it was the second room to the right to be exact. So you know I ain't lyin’ of course!” Micah smirks before getting on his horse and riding off.

“Damn it, Micah!” Arthur yelled, putting his two pistols away. He turns when hearing the sound of law yelling at them, saying they needed to be hung. “Ah, shit, well, Marston, unless you’re counting on a dinner date in the middle of the damn road with queer written on our foreheads, let’s go!” He shoves John along, causing the two to run together towards their horses.

“I ain’t one for hatin’ people, wait, that's a lie, but he deserves a special place in hell,” John mutters as they run, it’s a pretty good headstart as he hops up on Old Boy, nudging him to take off into a gallop. They had been on the run from the law countless times, but to some people, robbery and murder were more excusable than liking someone of the same gender. It was backwards to even try and equate things like that together. 

“If we go straight to camp the law’ll get us all and then we’re screwed for sure,” John thinks after a moment, at least they’d have someone to break them out of jail if they managed to divert the law. “Who in the hell made the rules anyway, Micah’s the one that should be on the run,” he’s upset to say the least, and for a moment he wishes that he hadn’t kissed Arthur, that he hadn’t confessed to him, because if he hadn’t he wouldn’t be in danger. Arthur would be just as oblivious as always and this wouldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t have been associated with John like that. 

The horses stop once they’re away from town and the two boys get off them. “First time I been chased by the law for somethin’ like that. Hell, that was kinda fun, I ain’t even gonna lie.” He gently pets Mango on her snout who snorts. “Let’s get in trouble for preferences more often, Marston,” he joked. He looks over at John and noticed he seems to be overthinking. The entire ride he was a little quiet. 

“Marston,” Arthur interrupts the silence again. “You better not be blaming yourself. Don’t get sentimental on me. M’ a grown man, you know? I can handle myself. Sure as hell can handle a few town lawmen,” Arthur grumbled the last part. He rolled his eyes slightly and walks over to John, standing in front of him. Arthur presses a hand to the back of John’s head and pulls him in a soft unsure kiss. The stinging sensation intensifying. 

John opens his mouth to say something when Arthur catches him by surprise. He doesn’t protest, but he’s frozen for a moment in shock before melting into the kiss. He’s still not used to this at all and so his heart is racing. Arthur feels so natural on him that he can’t comprehend why every time he kisses him feels new. He doesn’t want to pull away, he feels as if he could stay like this forever if it was possible. 

He doesn’t mind the fact that they’re somewhere unknown to him, he feels safe with Arthur. After a few moments, he pulls away. He’s slightly out of breath and a little flustered from the sudden kiss as he looks up at Arthur. “You’re right, I just worry is all. Running from the law for existin’ has to be a new achievement. Ain't it?” he finally says. 

“You can say that again, Marston,” Arthur chuckles. “C’mon, let’s get back to the camp and let good Ol’ Dutch know about our encounter. We shouldn’t wait around for more of those fellers to show up,” he walks over to mount Mango. Being with John was starting to become a new favorite thing. Arthur silently thanked his luck that he got involved with this life.

Sure, losing Mary was a downside. Yes, running from the law all the time was annoying. Dutch constantly wanting them to run errands was a little frustrating. However, John made things fun, exciting, dangerous, yet also addictive. He used to be annoyed with partnering up with him, but now he found John’s company endearing.

John follows suit, not wanting to be left behind. He leans forward to gently pat Old Boy after having worked so hard all day. “What if Micah’s gotten to them?” There was still a possibility, they didn’t know who had freed him. John knew that it wasn’t going to be easy getting rid of Micah and once they were on his bad side everything was dangerous. 


	11. You’re A Good Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut is in this chapter.

“At least we’ll be away from the do-gooders and back home for a while until Dutch decides to send us on another job,” he says. He found it a little odd that he would constantly pair them up. At this point he was getting a little suspicious but he didn’t want to say anything about it. Dutch had his reasons for doing what he did and while John was always ready to challenge him, there were a lot of times that it didn’t end well. 

“Yeah, it’s possible,” Arthur sighed. He wasn’t surprised by anything Micah did anymore. The man was a man was a creep, that was that. They soon arrive at camp and hitch their horses. “Dutch, we jus’ saw Micah in Rhodes!” he immediately says when seeing him. Dutch and Hosea seem to automatically come towards them once hearing that.

“Did he do anything to you, fellas?” Hosea says, concern laced in his voice.

“Are you alright, sons?” Dutch also asks. “God damn it, he probably brought the Pinkertons too!”

“We’re fine, he jus’ called us queers and got the law chasin’ us for a bit. We escaped them, poor fellers are probably still rummagin’ around for the ‘queers’, because ‘pparently that’s more serious than anythin’ else,” Arthur practically rolled his eyes each time he said queers.

“Well, how sad on their behalf. Imagine having such an ignorant mindset,” Dutch shakes his head.

“I’m just glad you fellas are alright,” Hosea smiles. “You two better go wash up in the water, we’re havin’ a little camp celebration because it’s Abigail’s birthday!” 

“Sure, as long as little Johnny Marston don’t cry because of the water,” Arthur gently ruffled the males hair, a teasing tone evident.

“Ah, ‘course, that’s why you gotta protect him,” Hosea jokes.

“I’m not scared of a little water, I just can’t swim,” John grumbles, “I can protect myself!” He walks over to the water and begin by washing his face. He knows that Arthur followed him over so he’s not too worried about being alone. 

“Don’t try anythin’ funny,” he warns. Sure, he never learned how to swim and it was the butt of jokes around camp, but he tried not to let it get to him. He had survived up until now without having to swim out of a situation and he intended on keeping it like that. “Since when did Dutch and Hosea start celebrating birthdays anyway?” he questions. 

“Since Abigail stole three hundred bucks from some poor guy,” Arthur shrugged, stripping down before entering the water. He washes himself and gently shoved John. “How you feelin’ about everythin’? I gotta disagree with Dutch celebratin’ when Micah could just sprout the law on us…”

He was definitely concerned about that. However, he wanted to have a little fun with the gang as well. He liked gang parties, they were fun. “Come here, your hair is greasy and tangled,” he grabs John by the ear and pulls him closer to him. Obviously, the two didn’t have pants, but the fog over the water covered them well. 

John trusted Arthur enough to know that he wouldn’t turn this into a joke. “I was gettin’ to it,” he says, it wasn’t in an angry tone, this one was more playful and a little relaxed. They had gotten comfortable with each other to the point where he didn’t mind the fact that they didn’t have any clothes on. 

“It’s a little confusin’ but I reckon they thought we could all use a little fun after being caught up in so much. They’re lookin’ out for us in their own odd way,” John explains. For once he saw eye to eye with Dutch. He wanted a break from everything too. He’d started to stray away from what the gang was doing after constantly being away from them and he just wanted to know that there was something left to salvage. 

“You never get to it,” Arthur grumbled, but he gently scrubs the soap into John’s scalp, making sure not to tangle it. He rinses the soap out of his hair as well before using his fingers to rake through the tangles. “Why do you never take care of this birds nest, Marston?! You know how many girls want hair like this, despite the grease? Man, even Uncle’s baldness would need a little bit of this hair.”

He finally starts to braid one strand of hair, and tucks it under his ear. “You get out first, I still have to wash my own hair, alright?” This was all…  _ Domestic.  _ Arthur wasn’t used to it, but it was domestic. It was oddly soothing. The sound of the camp chatting in the background, but also the sound of the crickets. 

“We live on the move, it’s hard to manage and it’ll just get dirty again,” he says, tilting his head back so that Arthur can wash his hair. It was relaxing to say the least. He really liked the feeling of Arthur’s fingers running through his hair. He closes his eyes, there were no worries on his mind for the moment. 

He wished that this peace was something that he was allowed more often. He’s a little sad when Arthur tells him to go on ahead and so he moves Arthur so that his back is facing him. “C’mere,” he says as he reaches up to rub the soap into his hair. It was much shorter than his own so it was a little easier to not mess up. “At least let me return the favor, you ain’t gotta do it alone,” he mutters in a softer tone. 

Arthur is a little confused when John turns him around, but the confusion is cut short with a gentle reassurance of what was happening. John was so  _ calm  _ with him. This wasn’t the same Marston who went around camp throwing tantrums. Arthur hated to admit that his heart started to beat a million miles per hour right there and then. The boy who used to drive him insane, was so gentle, became his new reassuring reminder that their world wasn’t only filled with disturbances.

Once John finished, the two parted ways to go fix themselves up in their own tents. Arthur heard loud chattering still as folks partied, but he took out his journal. He hadn’t written in awhile or drawn, so he started to sketch out a picture of John with his unique little braid that Arthur did. He then began to write beside it:

_ Little John Marston isn’t so little anymore. He’s been keeping me sane lately. The annoying kid who used to stomp around camp doesn’t exist around me. For some reason, he’s calmer around me. His presence is also starting to calm me down. I’m starting to believe that I’m gaining feelings for him. I feel like a kid for writing that, but it’s the damned truth. I gotta accept it eventually.  _

_ I don’t want the gang to know that he’s starting to become my weakness, especially Micah. I want to keep him safe. I also wanna be a little selfish and keep him around me as much as possible. It’s not like Mary. I pushed her away, but I can’t push Marston away. I just want him with me all the time. Ain’t that possible? Never really believed in a higher power, but I hope he and I make it. Just him and I. This is the most selfish thing I’ve written. Dutch would think I’m betraying him for caring about Marston more than the gang and his ‘plans.’  _

John had never really experienced something like that, something so intimate and plain domestic. He had to admit that he really liked it, or more specifically, he liked it when  _ Arthur  _ did these things with him. When he’s done getting dressed he heads over to Arthur’s tent and peeks in, “You’re journalin’ again?” he asks him. It had been a while since he had seen the man sit down and write something in that book of his. 

“We should head over, enjoy the mood a little before it’s over,” he knows that Arthur’s pretty private about his journal so he doesn’t pry too much. He only enters the tent enough so that his presence is known and he can extend a hand out to Arthur to help him up. “Don’t be a grump this time and let loose, I can’t believe it’s me out of all people sayin’ this to you,” he thinks out loud. 

Arthur looks up at John when he enters his tent, shaking his head already in a teasing manner. “You didn't need to come here y’know. The party can go on without me, besides, I ain’t really wantin’ to party right now either. Abigail deserves a good birthday, but I jus’ wanna relax,” Arthur scans John for a minute. “Unless I reckon you don’t want to party either, not if it doesn’t involve me, eh?” 

In that moment, he realized another thing. “They’re all drunk out there, and loud,” he points out. “Ain’t that just perfect?” The last word is hinted full of malice. It was evident with how his tone changed when he said it. “Boy, you better leave this tent or I swear to this damn swamp we’re held in that your voice is gonna be the only thing heard from Rhodes to Valentine,” those words are spoken with hiss.

John is almost stunned, he can’t bring himself to leave the tent nor can he move towards Arthur for a moment. He was caught completely off guard by his words, but they weren’t necessarily a bad thing. “Are you hintin’ at something here, Arthur Morgan?” he says in a teasing tone as he finally snaps out of it and walks towards him. 

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but he has to admit that he likes it. Something about Arthur’s tone felt different, it felt  _ good _ . “Are you gonna show me, or are you just all talk?” he leans forward and grabs the collar of Arthur’s shirt. The blue was a nice color on him, but John thought that it might look better off, “I don’t think they need me out there very much,” he points out. He’s looking at Arthur almost defiantly, waiting for something to happen. 

Arthur narrows his eyes at the challenge. John really assumed he wasn’t serious, huh? He may be new to being with John, or men in fact, but he wasn’t inexperienced with anything. He may not go around sleeping with women, but when he did, they remembered. They’d talk about it. He was one to keep a person remembering them. A man of his word, in a way. So if John believed he wasn’t serious, he sure as hell was wrong. 

Arthur doesn’t hesitate to switch their positions completely, flipping John on his back onto his bed easily. As if the entire movement was planned. He has John’s wrists pinned to the mattress. Arthur was known to be the strongest out of the camp, compared to Charles that is. However, John didn’t stand a chance. “I did warn you,” he rasps into John’s ear. He takes complete control of the situation by crashing his lips harshly into John’s, parting them before biting at his bottom lip. He unpins one of John’s wrists, smoothing his hand down John’s shirt and raising it up to scrape his dull nails underneath the fabric.

John lets out a soft squeak of surprise when his back hits the bed. It didn’t hurt him but it wasn’t something he was prepared for. He covers his mouth, almost embarrassed that something like that had come out of him. He doesn’t have much time to react before Arthur kisses him, but he doesn’t push him away. This kiss feels different, it wasn’t at all like his previous slow and unsure ones, he had more of a point to prove with this one. 

John is desperate to return the kiss, he meets him with just as much passion and lust. There’s a quiet moan when he feels Arthur’s nails down his back, his free hand quickly grasping onto Arthur’s shorter hair. This is all new to John, but that doesn’t change his craving for it, he’s sure that he wants more. 

Arthur’s a little surprised by the noise John made, it wasn’t a sound he’d ever heard escape John’s mouth before. He doesn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, making it rougher and tilting his head to angle their lips better together. A noise forms from the back of his throat when John grabbed his hair, but it’s nothing loud. It’s almost a low growl. Arthur pulls back for a moment, the moonlight shining into the tent. 

He’s taken aback by John’s appearance. His eyes wide and filled with a certain desperation. However, Arthur never looked at John differently until now. His eyes scanned his body, every part of him making him almost lose control right there and then. Was his waist always so nice? It was a question that thumped into his head. He wanted to claim him, and so he did. Arthur leans over him again, his lips attaching to John’s neck, nipping and sucking on the flesh to scatter marks all over. Another satisfied growl rumbles from Arthur’s throat, “My good boy.”

Arthur’s gaze would have made anyone else nervous, but John saw something new in this, it seemed full of adoration that he thought he would never get from the man. He can feel his heart beat faster as things escalate. He’s not used to someone looking at him like this, but it makes him feel… _ pretty _ …for once.

Arthur was a handsome man already, but something about his demeanor at the moment elevated his looks. His movements were harsher and bolder, he was strong and as a result John was more attracted to him than ever. He ends up tilting his head back so that Arthur can have better access to his neck, a moan escaping his lips as he looks down at Arthur through half lidded eyes. His excitement only escalates at the sudden praise, he didn’t think that hearing something like that from Arthur would make him feel as good as it did, but the whimper he gives in response is a confirmation of it. 

Arthur smirks slightly at the noise John lets out at the praise. He seemed to like being praised by him, it was interesting to say the least. “Keep it down, boy,” Arthur warns, it’s almost barely heard over the music. He leans back, still straddling John by the waist. “You gotta keep it down, Marston, or this won’t go anywhere, and I sure as hell want it to go somewhere.” His voice is rougher than usual, and deeper. 

“Marston, how far do you want this to go? I wanna hear you tell me what you want. Right here and now. We ain’t got all night. Don’t want your darlin’ Abigail to stumble in.” It’s a question that Arthur wants an answer to. He knows John is blunt and direct, so he wants to hear it from him. He doesn’t want to do anything John wasn’t ready for. 

John doesn’t have to give it a second thought before he speaks up, “Just fuck me, Arthur,” he says as straightforward and blunt as ever, making direct eye contact with Arthur so that he knew he was being serious. He didn’t want to waste any time either. It was risky to say the least, but then again their lives revolved around taking risks to survive. It was nothing new to him. 

He had never been one to pass up an opportunity and as he’s done speaking he reaches up to pull Arthur down to his level so that he can kiss him again. He was tired of all the talk and if Arthur wanted to do things fast enough for them to remain private, he didn’t mind helping things move right along. He knows that his sudden reach for control would be short lived, but it had to be done. 

“Well, ain’t you just direct as ever,” Arthur grumbled, breaking the kiss. “If you insist, Marston,” he leans back to unbutton his blue shirt, and then starts to help John undress. Once his chest is exposed he starts to bite and suck marks onto his skin, leaving marks over his collarbone and waist. He tilts John’s head back with a free hand before sucking at his skin again, his teeth making more marks evident on John’s neck. He works John’s pants down, leaving him bare as well.

As he does so, his other free hand rummages through his satchel, pulling out hair pomade. “This might hurt at first,” he whispers into John’s ear. “You jus’ gotta keep yourself together. Don’t be loud,” Arthur warns. He goes back to dragging his teeth across sensitive parts of John’s neck, distracting John from the pain he was about to feel. His free hand was now coated with pomade, and he starts to gently work his finger into John, not wanting to hurt him. “You’re a good boy, jus’ keep it together.”

John tries his best to keep quiet, he knows it’ll be difficult, but the praise makes it a little more tolerable. He’s doing well at the start, when he feels Arthur’s lips on his skin he releases soft grunts that are only audible enough for them both to hear. When he feels Arthur’s finger inside of him he feels discomfort for a few moments before beginning to adjust to the feeling. His hands are gently holding onto Arthur’s back at first, his nails digging into it as everything progresses. 

He appreciated the fact that the man was trying to make everything go smoother, it was something he knew that probably not many people got. “A...Arthur,” he says, his name coming out in a moan. One of his hands move to his mouth, his eyes wide when he realizes that it wasn’t the quietest of sounds. 

“Shh, boy, keep it down,” he warns, his voice calm and evident that he knew exactly what he was doing. Arthur enjoyed the noises John was making, he even wished that John could be louder. It’s almost as if Dutch heard his prayer because he shouts to Javier to play the guitar. Immediately the camp is filled with Uncles loud singing, nobody can hear anything but that old bastard. Arthur wants to here John come undone, he wants to wreck him too. Now he can, and he was going to take full control of that.

Arthur works another finger in, finally noting John was ready for him. He aligns himself with John and with one slow roll of the hips, he’s in. Arthur starts with a slow pace, trying to ease the rest of himself into John as smooth as he could without hurting the boy. He scatters soft kisses down John’s throat, grumbling a few praises. “You’re doin’ good, Marston.” He waits for John to fully adjust as well before his pace picks up into a more harsher thrust. Not fast or slow, but enough to spike pleasure into him. 

John feels relief wash over him when he hears the noise outside pick up. It was almost a little too coincidental to be comforting but he doesn’t mind it as it only benefited them. The feeling of Arthur inside of him is odd at first, as anything would be, but he knows that he can take it. 

When he’s finally adjusted he notices that Arthur is trying his best to stay gentle, at least for the moment, but being the person that John is, he craves more. It was a little ambitious, he had to admit that, yet he can’t stop himself, “A-Ah, Goddamnit, Morgan, I’m not gonna break,” he says in a more demanding tone. He’s a bit too impatient for his own good, “Shit,” he slurred the word as it turns into more of a moan. 

“If you insist, Marston,” Arthur replies after a moment of debating whether he wants to listen to John. He decided that he would, only because he wanted John to enjoy this. Arthur picks up the pace, each thrust rough and quickly escalating into a faster speed. His bed starts to creak, the smell of both men overwhelming the entire tent. John looks amazing right now, his entire expression is twisted into one of pleasure and his hair was starting to stick to his forehead from sweat.

Arthur lets out a low moan, his head dipping to kiss John properly again. He tilts his head to scatter more loving types of kisses onto his scars. “You’re such a good boy, you’re so pretty, Marston,” he praises him again. He angles himself better so that his thrust aims directly into John’s sensitive spot, and he knows he’s succeeded when he sees John’s reaction. His pace keeps rough and quick, aiming each time skillfully in the right area.

John feels more than just the pleasure Arthur is giving him, he’s being so mindful of every part of him that it just feels  _ different _ . It’s not just a quick thing that either of them will forget later. He feels appreciated for once in his life. There’s a moment of tenderness until John let’s out another loud moan, his mouth slightly agape as Arthur fucks him. 

He’s running his nails down Arthur’s back, desperately trying to hold onto something. He’s drooling slightly as he continues to take it all in. “Fuuck, Arthur, don’t...don’t stop,” he stutters out, his entire body trembling from the force Arthur was using, but it felt good despite it. 

“Easy,” Arthur mumbled, trying to keep reassuring him. He could feel John trembling. Arthur started to feel the overwhelming warmth building up in his stomach, and he lets out a low grunt. “Jesus christ, Marston,” he hisses out. He’s thrusting at a quicker pace. still hitting John in the right place. The entire situation is overwhelming him, but also it was beyond satisfying.

“You’re such a good boy,” he slurs out the last part. He lets out another deep growl from the back of his throat. “I’m gettin’ there, Marston,” he warns. His hands search for something to grip onto, so they seemingly search for John’s, and he twines their fingers together. His grip tightens as he pounds into John, his thrusts a little sloppier.

As Arthur continues to hit John’s pleasure point he begins to feel as if he’s ready to come. Everything is hot and sweaty and the skin on skin contact becomes almost overwhelming. He feels something a feeling of calm when Arthur reaches for his hands. They seemed to fit well and simply added to the experience. “Shit, me too,” he adds in a breathy voice as Arthur continues to thrust into him. 

“Don’t get...tired on me now, Morgan,” he says in between pants. He doesn’t mind the sloppiness of it all, but he’s never been one to hold his tongue. He simply enjoyed messing with Arthur playfully and seeing what his reaction would be. He was particularly interesting as he wasn’t sure exactly what would ever happen with Arthur. 

“Shut it, Marston,” Arthur says, but it’s laced with endearment. He’s not getting tired, however it had been awhile since he had done this with anyone. His body was almost exploding with the need to finish off. Arthur wasn’t one to do a job incorrectly. He wasn’t one to leave someone unsatisfied as well. So he immediately corrects his sloppiness, his thrusts become more calculated.

He finally decides to drag John a little closer to him, aiming his thrusts a lot better now. Arthur’s starting to pant slightly, his stomach tightening and muscles clenching each time he slams into John. His hips rocking into him with precise movements. God, he’s not sure why this feels better than anyone else he’s been with, but it definitely is the best he’s been with. John was consuming every thought of his. Arthur decides to play fairer and frees one hand to reach down and start pumping John’s neglected dick, adding extra sensations to the male.

John can’t contain himself when Arthur begins doing this. He lets out a low moan, his body tingling at the touch. He doesn’t even know if he can get any proper words out with all of the stimulation occurring. He knows for a fact that it’ll hurt the following day but it was worth it in the end. 

It’s after a few more moments of this that John finally feels himself come, “Arthur, fuck, ah,” he slurs out as he feels the warm that comes with it. He realizes that Arthur still hasn’t finished but there’s not a problem with it as he reaches up to bring him back down to his level, his lips sucking at Arthur’s neck, leaving the reddish-purple spots that he took such pride in. 

Arthur lets out a deep groan when John does this, his body starts to tingle with sensation. His thrusts become slower as he feels himself cum. “Shit,” he manages to say, still breathing hard. After awhile of being still, be finally pulls out of John slowly, the cold air rushing in immediately. He reaches over to grab an old shirt and cleans the two of them up slightly. 


	12. Reversing Mistakes and Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each time John fixes something in the future, it messes with one of the characters mentality. He messed up Dutch’s, but it’ll be fixed now that he’s going back to normal timeline.

He finally wedges himself beside John, his eyes barely managing to stay awake. It’s not until he hears Abigail yelling that he automatically sits up. “Where are you boys?!” She yelled. “Are you in the tent, Arthur?” Arthur widens his eyes before quickly putting on his shirt and buckling his pants. He gestures to John to get ready quickly as well.

“Damn it,” John whispers as he scrambles to get dressed once more. Sometimes he wished that he could have a bit of peace for once. He starts to leave the tent, appeasing Abigail with whatever she wanted. “I, uh, fell asleep after having a drink with Arthur,” he says to cover the truth. 

“Why did you need us? I reckon you we’re havin’ a good time,” he mentions as he walks towards the campfire, his pace is slower as he waits for Arthur to catch up with him. He was perfectly fine not spending the evening with everyone else and so he couldn’t understand what was so important that they were needed. 

“Well, Dutch wanted to know where you were. Same with Arthur, but he was less concerned about Arthur because he’s like… Never at camp,” she comments. “No offense, Arthur. It’s just true is all. Speaking of which, why do both of your necks have rashes?” She says as they arrive at the campfire. Questioning glances are now obvious, even Dutch was staring.

“I haven’t got a clue what you’re talkin’ about,” Arthur replies. He eyes Dutch for a second, who seems off.  _ What did I do wrong? Why is he looking at me like that? _ Those questions bore into Arthur’s head. “Dutch, you okay?” He finally decides to voice his concerns.

“I’m just wondering, Arthur, if you remembered our conversation when we first met John,” Dutch hissed. 

“What do you mean - oh, listen, Dutch, you can’t be referring to…” Arthur pauses. When they first saved John from being hung, Dutch shoved Arthur to the side. 

_ “You know the camp rules, right? I teach everyone in my camp first before anyone else lays with ‘em. Once they come of age, of course,” Dutch says this as if it’s the most casual thing he’s said all day. _

_ Younger Arthur was taken aback by the statement. “Dutch, you can’t be serious. I ain’t gonna catch feelings for him, but he’s jus’ a kid. I know with me… I was the exception. Can’t he also be an exception? You don’t gotta lay with everyone at that camp. It’s kinda messed up and filled with power play. You ain’t teaching him nothin’, you’re just teachin’ him that people who lay with you don’t sincerely have feelings for you,” Arthur argued. _

_ “You better respect my rules,” Dutch warned again. It wasn’t until years later that he brought it up again. After John seemingly asked for advice about liking Arthur. He was pissed off and took it all out on Arthur. “I told you not to do anything!” _

_ “To who? What are you talkin’ about?” Arthur retorts. “I don’t getchu, Dutch, I don’t getchu sometimes!” _

_ “I told you not to do anything to John,” Dutch signs in annoyance. _

_ “Piss off, Dutch, I ain’t even done anythin’ to him. He’s just a younger brother to me. I would never see a kid as my damn sex toy. You’re the one waiting until he’s of age, that’s sick, Dutch!” Arthur yelled. _

_ “Argue with me again, and you’re out of this camp,” Dutch warmed. “You know the rules.” _

_ “I never agreed with them,” Arthur huffed. _

Arthur is immediately punched, and hard. He stabilized himself, shock written on his face. The camp lets out a few gasps, and even a few people saying his name in concern. “What in the hell was that for, Dutch?!” Arthur snapped, glaring at him. “Oh, because you couldn’t have John first?! Because everythin’ is a game to you? Everyone is a manipulation of power play to you? You can’t take this out on me, Dutch!”

“I could care less if John liked you, Arthur. However, you knew the damn rules. I was always going to be the first. How did you forget that?!” Dutch says in annoyance.

“The first?! He is a person, Dutch, a person. You took Mary-Beth’s first, you almost took mine, you took Sean’s… Who wasn’t even into men! You took Abigail’s too. Molly doesn’t deserve to be played with either!” Arthur argues. 

“John likes… Arthur?” Abigail winced when saying this, her eyes widened with realization.

“Hold on a second, you were goin’ to-” John’s eyes go wide with shock to full of fury as he cuts in between Arthur and Dutch, “Why would you think I would want that!? I thought you were protecting me...I  _ trusted  _ you, Dutch!” He’s furious to the point where he doesn’t even bother addressing Abigail’s concern, that wasn’t the problem here. 

“You’d better watch your mouth, son, lest you forget who took you in.” Dutch retorts. 

“After all this you’re doin’ here, I reckon I’d rather forget,” His voice is laced with hurt and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be at the camp anymore, but they have no where else to go. It’s after a moment of uncertainty that John finally reacts, in a fit of anger he punches Dutch. He backs away after the realization dawns on him, but for some reason, he wasn’t afraid.

The entire gang is put into silence. Even Arthur seems shocked at what just happened. “This is what I told you, Dutch,” a familiar voice said. “Told you they’d both betray you somehow. They're rats, Dutch, they lied to you. They was the one sayin’ where we were to the Pinkertons.”

“Micah,” Dutch says in realization, rubbing his jaw after being punched. “You were god damn right. I raised you both, and you betrayed me. You even dared to go against me!”

Arthur narrows his eyes at this. “Dutch, you know that ain’t true…” He can’t finish defending himself when a loud shot interrupts him. He immediately clutches his chest where the bullet hole is. “You shot me,” Arthur realizes. “You shot me,” he repeats, coughing blood now. “God damn you…” He feels his life starting to drown out of his body as he dropped to his knees. 

“Arthur!” Hosea yelled, running out of his tent. “Oh my god, what have you fools done?!”

“He’s dying,” Abigail cries out. “Dear lord, you killed him!”

“What the hell, Micah?!” Javier curses him out in spanish, too annoyed to speak properly. “Why would you do this?”

“No, this can't be happening,” Susan also manages to say. “Someone do something!” 

“We can’t, it’s a bullet wound to the heart. He’s as good as dead,” Dutch’s words are filled with regret. He seems disgusted with himself. 

“Arthur!?” John shouts as he hurries to help lay Arthur down, “Stay with me, Morgan, don’t fail me now!” The irrational part of him thinks that something can be done, that something  _ should  _ be done, but he knows that it’s over for him. He doesn’t let anyone get near him and they know better than to try and move him when he’s like this. “You bastard, it wasn’t supposed to end like this!” he’s angry and hurt, he’s processing things that he’s never had to truly deal with before and it becomes overwhelming. 

Before he knows it, he’s crying, he takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut, the tears becoming too much to handle; but for a moment everything feels different. It’s the exact feeling he had when he was kidnapped by the Pinkertons and he saw the future in his dream. It was strangely comforting, but he couldn’t let himself get lost in it, Arthur was literally dead in his arms. The only problem was that when he opened his eyes, it was no longer night time, nor was he holding Arthur. 

“What in the hell?” he mutters to himself, his hands reach for the dirt in front of him, there was no trace of Arthur or any of the other members of the gang. He finally stands up and begins to walk around the forest he was in, it seemed to become more familiar as he walked further into it. He stops walking when he hears chatter in the distance, he almost can’t believe it. He feels that if he makes one wrong motion it’ll be gone. A feeling of hope swells in his chest, he recognizes some of the voices, especially the loud one that belongs to Uncle. He never thought he’d be this happy to hear that man’s voice again. “It’s Blackwater…” he whispers as he continues walking forward, the campsite coming into view. His heart is pounding as he breaks out into a running pace, he just wanted to know if Arthur was alive. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how he had ended up here, but if he was okay all of that didn’t matter. 

Relief washes over him when he sees Arthur surrounded by Javier, Lenny and a few of the other camp members as he hits a log with an ax. At this point he’s entered the camp grounds and decides that announcing his presence is his best option. “Arthur!?” he exclaims as he runs towards him. He isn’t even thinking about the consequences nor where exactly he was that made it so that Arthur was still alive. As he gets closer he sees that Arthur seems older, he doesn’t look the way he did when John had last seen him. He seems tired and as if he’s been through a hell of a lot more than what John had seen, but he was still attractive and he didn’t really mind it at all. When Arthur pauses what he’s doing, he takes the opportunity to rush over and practically pin him against the tree that was just behind him, his hands reaching up to bring Arthur’s head forward so that he can kiss him. It’s a kiss full of relief and longing, he never thought he’d be able to see him again. 

John had left the gang for a year. His last words to Arthur was something on the lines of working on himself. Whatever the hell that means. He didn’t blame Marston, but he missed him. Arthur’s birthday was a week ago, he had turned 34. Yet, the reminder was just that he was older. He was constantly exhausted from running back and forth with Dutch. Now they had just failed a Blackwater robbery and were about to leave again and quick. In the end, Arthur was mad at John. Mad only because his company was gone, and mad because he couldn’t even give him a heads up. It was all in the span of five minutes that he told him, and Abigail attempting to cling to him. 

It’s not surprising that Arthur would feel his heart drop the moment he heard Marston’s voice screaming  _ his  _ name after a whole year. He hadn’t heard that raspy voice in awhile, but it sounded pained and as if John has just seen something outstanding. Arthur puts down the axe, facing John who immediately pinned him against the tree. He can’t even question what he was doing before he kissed him. 

**_“For years, Morgan, years, I begged that my feelin’s towards you would pass, it’s not easy! I can’t believe you’re sayin’ that to me!?”_ **

**_“You know I looked up to you.”_ **

**_“S’okay that you kissed me. I ain’t even mad over it.”_ **

**_“You think it’s really because of Micah?”_ **

**_“You sure are pretty, Marston.”_ **

**_“At least let me return the favor, you ain’t gotta do it alone.”_ **

**_“You’re a good boy.”_ **

Arthur’s entire body shivers at that memory. 

**_“You shot me.”_ **

It’s not before long that Arthur snaps into realization, his body reacting to John instantly. He kisses John back, just as passionate and deep. Finally, they pull back, ignoring the camp staring at them. “You were gone for a year…” He whispered. “But I guess to you it was a day…”

“And you were...you were,” he can’t even finish the sentence before he pulls Arthur into a hug, “Nevermind that, Morgan...Wait, do you remember?” He pulls back, a look of concern and shock on his face. He didn’t know what Arthur meant by a year, whatever let him see the future must have sent him to another timeline where everything was fine...except for maybe his own reputation at the camp. 

“Did I go through with that nonsense, and you just let me?” he questions, remembering the conversation he had had with Arthur back at the hotel in Rhodes. He knew that he would have never actually left, but the circumstances of this situation were different. It was as if he was filling in for someone else and yet it felt right all in the same. 

Arthur slowly wraps his arms around John to embrace him. “Mm, you sure did. I couldn’t exactly stop you. You were so dead set on leavin’ that you didn’t even take any supplies with you. I’m jus’ glad to see you, Marston. Glad I remember you,  _ all  _ of you,” Arthur adds the last part playfully. He pulls back after a moment when hearing Dutch calling their names.

“John! Son, you’re back! I thought we’d never hear from you again. Make yourself at home, you’re always welcomed here. Glad you and Arthur are getting along again!” Dutch smiled brightly at the two. “We can talk more about leaving later, Arthur. I want you two to catch up. If anyone in this camp says one more hateful comment about these two, I sure as hell will kick you out! If anyone bothers you two on being involved with one another, let me know. I’m just happy for you boys, especially John. Told you it would when you’re older.” He bids them farewell and leaves.

“I know the Dutch in those flashbacks or whatever you wanna call those was disgustin’, but this one ain’t. He never did those things in this version, I guess. This is all confusin’. I jus’ want you to know that it’s not the same Dutch, it’s the good ol’ Dutch that raised us,” Arthur explains. “I ain’t quite sure how any of this works or what’s real or not, but I remember some parts of you and the situation.”


	13. Old Relationships

“This Dutch is so…nice? It’ll take some getting used to,” John contemplates for a second, it was rare that he wasn’t butting heads with Dutch, “Is Micah still with us?” He narrows his eyes at the mention of the name. He didn’t want anything to do with the man in either timeline. He just hoped that they had already done their best to avoid him or that he had arrived in time to stop them from taking him in. 

However, he feels relieved to know that Dutch isn’t as sick of a person as the one he knew, it brings him enough confidence to know that he really might not be manipulated in the way the other Dutch was. “The only folks in this place who know what happened are you and I, ain’t it? At least you don’t hate me, do ya?” he asks. 

“Nah, m’ not gonna hate you anytime soon. You already done enough for me,” Arthur pats him on the back. “Nobody here hates you, and Micah is here. Except we only met him in Blackwater. Dutch pitied him for some reason, but he’s the reason the plan screwed up. Jus’ like in the other… Uh… Future? I don’t even know what to call it. I only remember some stuff, but it’s mainly jus’ you. I remember everything that happened in this timeline though.”

“Dutch says we’re going to party to celebrate John’s return! Then we’re gonna head out tomorrow morning, he wanted me to let y’all know!” Tilly shyly tells Arthur. She had always had a small crush on the older male, it was all harmless though. Nobody had really noticed Arthur and John’s kiss, except Bill and Micah. Those were the only two who cared enough to stare at their reunion. 

Javier peaked a glance, and so did Charles, but neither cared. Charles was new too, only there for a few months. He was quiet and reserved, but he held a large amount of respect for Arthur. “Another party?” Arthur grunted.

“We ain’t had a party in a year, Arthur?” she questioned.

Arthur widens his eyes in realization. Remembering that he was remembering a different timeline. “My bad, sorry, Tilly.” 

The familiar guitar playing and singing light up the mood immediately. Dutch was dancing with Molly, minding his own business. Hosea had greeted John with a big hug, saying he was glad to see his son again. Abigail punched John and remembered to call him every synonym of uselessness. It seemed to all be normal. Except one thing interrupted the normal. 

“Arthur,” a voice calls out. “Oh, Arthur, I found you!”

Arthur’s entire body froze, cold chills running down his back. He clenched his fist in instinct, his heart beating loudly that he couldn’t hear anything else but the sound. This cannot be happening. It couldn’t be...

**Mary Linton.**

John knew that Mary was essentially Arthur’s first love and his heart sank a little when he heard her voice. He was a little angry if he was being completely honest, how could she come back like that after not even trying to work things out, after trying so hard to change him. The worst part was that as much as he trusted Arthur to make the right choices, there was a chance that he would end up with the short end of the stick. 

Of course, he didn’t know it would happen, this was a different timeline, it was something he hadn’t seen. He was essentially going in blind, “She’s for some nerve comin’ back here,” he says loudly as he moves forward, almost instinctively standing in front of Arthur. The anger is evident in his voice but he knows no one will try and meddle with him right now. 

“Oh my, John you’ve grown up into quite a young man, huh? Do you mind if I speak to Arthur there, behind you…?” She asks kindly, her eyes on Arthur the entire time. Mary always had an effect on keeping Arthur silent and flustered. He finally looks up, making eye contact as if it pained him. She gives him a smile and Arthur moves past John to stand in front of her. “Oh, Arthur, I’ve missed you so. You have no clue… M—.”

“— How’s your husband?” Arthur asked, interrupting her. His eyes locked on hers. It’s a good question. It’s one she can’t avoid. Why was she back? “How’s father dearest? Does he know you’re out here? Did you come here to ask for help again? Maybe need someone to do the dirty work for you, like scaring folk? Since that’s all I can do for you. All I am is someone you find frightenin’, after all.”

“Be kind to me, Arthur! Please!” Her voice breaks. “Please be kind to me… M-my husband is dead. I never loved him anyway, not as much as I did you. I wanted to marry you, but you kept running, Arthur! You care more about outlawing than being in love with someone. Hell, I came all the way here just to beg for you back! Because I’m in love with you!” 

“I need time to think, you’re welcomed to stay a night here. ‘M sure Dutch will give you a place to sleep in camp, maybe even catch up with the women. I can’t jus’ talk about this all right now,” Arthur snapped. “I… M’ sorry that I was rude to you. Jus’ it’s a lot to think about.” He turns and quickly walks to his tent, leaving Mary and John alone. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that, John,” she sighs before walking off to find Dutch.

“God damn, what is it with that bastard and makin’ people fall in love with him,” he mutters to himself. He knew that Arthur had gone off to think on his own, but John’s concern for the man topped any sense of self-preservation he had. Arthur had seemed upset when Mary arrived, he didn’t expect him to take things lightly, but it was such a different welcome compared to the way in which he had greeted John after not having seen him in a year. He knew that the time frames didn’t necessarily add up, but the situation was off. 

He ends up standing in front of Arthur’s tent, his heart feeling strangely heavy as he was reminded of the night before the incident with Micah occurred. He pokes his head in, his voice a little demanding when he speaks, “I’ll reckon you’ve been havin’ a hard time, haven’t you, Morgan? Now if you kick me out of here I might have to just leave again, I’m jokin’ but seriously…Are you takin’ her back?” he asks, he didn’t want to know if he was, but the least he could do was be there for Arthur, especially after the John of this timeline decided to leave him for a year. 

Arthur looks up at John when he notices him poking his head inside. “Just come in, Marston, no point in being half in and half out,” he grumbled. “You can sit down as well, I ain’t gonna chase you away.”

John doesn’t hesitate to walk in and sit down next to Arthur. He’s relieved that he’s not as grumpy as he could be. There were times when Arthur managed to somehow dethrone John in the grouchy department.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. You’re here and I can’t imagine not having you be apart of this gang, but Mary returning…” Arthur pauses. “I’m a little afraid. I kept runnin’ from marryin’ her because of the gang. I didn’t want her always having her life risked. Annabel was another reason. Dutch lost her to Colm O’Driscoll, and I grew paranoid. I didn’t want that happening to anyone I loved. You were too young, but you know how I’d disappear once a month for maybe a week? Then I came back and stopped doing that, but I was pissed drunk.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his chest tightening. “I had a son,” his voice cracked. “I met a girl, she was a waitress. I didn’t do right by her, got her pregnant. I did whatever I could to help out. I’d visit the boy, he was a nice youngster,” Arthur clenches his fists. “I couldn’t save them,” he lets out a struggled breath. It’s not before long that Arthur started to cry. He hadn’t cried for a long while, nobody saw any hint of sadness before on him. Even Dutch would question if anyone had seen him cry. “I went back there like I did every month… Saw two tombstones outside the house. I just knew, y’know, I knew they died. All because some bastard wanted ten bucks,” his voice is strained and raw. 

John had never seen Arthur cry, he had always seen the tougher side of him, the side that he maintained for the gang. He didn’t think he was wrong for it or that he shouldn’t be crying. In fact, he wasn’t shocked by it, Arthur had been through plenty. He had suffered so much that it would have torn down the sanest of men. John’s hand begins to rub up and down his back soothingly. The man was in a world of hurt and had trusted John enough to admit these things to him. 

“You can’t keep blamin’ yourself,” John says, his voice reassuring and warm, he understood when to be mature, “But s’okay to get it off your chest, it’s in the past but it still feels like a burden doesn’t it? You did what you could and you didn’t change who you are because of it, you’re still a good man.” To John, Arthur was among the best of men. He was constantly looking out for others, always putting them before himself and making sure they were okay. Circumstances would often but in and make the effort seem in vain, but it was never his fault to begin with, it was a part of life. 

Arthur doesn’t hesitate to rest his head against John’s chest, they were still sitting but it was only for him to cry a little quieter. He finally calms down after a few minutes, his head still resting on John. “We shouldn’t always make camp parties sad… Seems to be our talent,” he mumbled. “Come on, let's head out there. This is for you after all.” Arthur stands up and grabs John by the wrist, pulling him out of the tent. They both head over to the campfire where everyone was crowded around drinking. Javier was playing the guitar, it was just an instrumental but it was nice.

Abigail and Mary were dancing with each other, as were Dutch and Molly. Hosea discussed his best robbery schemes with Lenny in the distance, the two laughing about his adventures with idiots. Arthur and John arrived at the campfire, and Arthur sits down. His eyes scheme over everyone, happy faces evident. He looks at Mary and he doesn’t have a single thought in his head. He looks at John. The fire illuminated his face, small sparks of it flying around him. His black hair was messy as always but was slightly blowing with the small breeze. Arthur stared at him longer than he realized, long enough for Mary to notice and start walking over but long enough for Arthur to realize one thing.

**Arthur Morgan was falling in love with John Marston** **_._ **


	14. It's Our New Spark's of Friendship

John noticed that Arthur was staring, he didn’t want to mention anything because, if he was being completely honest, it felt nice. It seemed like Arthur truly appreciated him, his heart fluttering at the thought. He pretends to not notice as he pokes the fire with a stick, acting as if he’s helping the flames grow. When he looks up he notices Mary approaching them once more. 

He’s the first one to speak considering that the women had managed to ruin their reunion, “Is there somethin’ else you need, miss? I got to thinkin’ that Arthur here made things pretty clear earlier.” He seems angry but at the same time, this John is what everyone in the camp had gotten used to over the years so he hopes that no one will question it. 

“I-I just need to speak to him alone,” Mary begged. Her eyes on Arthur the entire time. She almost seemed not to notice John’s presence. However, she did notice their closeness. Arthur lets out a loud sigh and looks up at Mary. 

“You and I had somethin’ back then, but it’s gone now. It’s been gone for a while,” he tells her. He wanted to be direct and get it over with. 

“Have you met someone else?” Mary finally asks, staring at him in shock.

Arthur lets out another sigh before scratching his chin. “Well… Erm,” he looks back at John for a second. “Yeah, I think I have. You always wanted someone I wasn’t, Mary. You can’t always change folk, and I am one of those people. I don’t wanna change who I am. The person I met… They like me for who I am, they want me to be who I am. We had a romance once, but it’s over now. It’ll always be over.”

“I… see,” Mary whispers. “Oh, Arthur, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Mary,” Abigail interrupts. “Let it go, you haven’t seen him for years and he’s smitten for someone else. Right, Arthur?”

“Erm, well… I… Uh… Err… Uhm,” Arthur struggles to say, he fumbles with his hat.

“That means yes,” Abigail smiled. “Now, let's go talk somewhere else. Catch up on a few things,” she spares John a knowing smile before leaving with Mary.

This Abigail was so…easygoing that John almost didn’t know how to feel. She would have been scolding him at every opportunity and yet she had helped him out here. He sighs in relief as he turns to Arthur. His words having made him just a bit more content. He knows what Arthur means to him and he knows that he’s been pining for a while, the reciprocation of the feeling was relieving. 

“Since when did Arthur Morgan go all soft?” he jokes, breaking the silence. He looks over at Arthur, his gaze growing softer as they lock eyes, “I’m only messing with you, I think that was kind of noble of you. And I’m flattered…I think.” He knew that Arthur had been talking about him, he had kissed the man and if he hadn’t meant it, it would have been a bit of a dick move. All John wanted was for Arthur to remain the man that he was, it didn’t particularly matter to him what he did as long as he was the Arthur Morgan that he knew and loved. It was during that train of thought that John pauses, almost taken aback by the thought of it. Of course, somewhere along the way, the crush had turned into a feeling of love and he had accepted at this point in time. 

“Soft? You have no idea, Marston,” Arthur laughed. Normally he’d be a little awkward about being called out, but he immediately notices John looking at him with a soft look. “Don’t look at me like that,” he retorts. “Looks like you’re going soft as well.” He finally sits down, staring at the fire and listening to drunk Javier play the guitar. His voice mumbling something incoherent. “You should get some sleep, Javier. Everyone else left already.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Goodnight you two,” Javier yawned, getting up and leaving to his tent. The two are left alone, staring at the fire. Arthur looked around for a moment, making sure no one was around. He reaches over to tug John into him, his hand reaching up to pull John’s head to his chest. He doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on his forehead. The gesture softer than his normal ones, but John deserves it.

John doesn’t expect to like something like this, nor did he ever think he’d be experiencing a feeling like this. He doesn’t protest or argue, in fact, he wraps his arms around Arthur, pulling himself closer to him. It all just felt right to him, like maybe they could enjoy life and indulge a little. 

“This feels nice,” he mutters into Arthur’s chest, any worries he had gone for the time being. He assumed that Arthur wasn’t the type to show John just one form of affection, but he never thought it would be as tender and intimate as this. He still didn’t understand why Mary had decided to return, but that was just a small bump in the road. They could move forward now. 

Arthur yawns, tiredness starting to affect him. “Yeah,” he mumbled after a moment. “I’m tired, we should get some shut-eye,” Arthur decided. He pulls John up, letting the man leaned into him. “You’re older too, y’know,” he chuckles. It was true, John was in his twenties now. Arthur truly just wanted to rest properly. 

He looks around for a moment before pulling John along to his tent and closing the entrance. “You wanna sleep here tonight? You’ll jus’ have to leave in the morning before anyone wakes up. The beds a little small, but it’s all up to you.” Arthur scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It can handle it, I’m sure,” John says with a mischievous smile. It didn’t matter to him what he had to do as long as he got to spend time with Arthur, besides the camp would be picking up by that time anyway, it was no use sleeping in. It was evident that Arthur was in a mood to be more domestic in a way and John understood, it was a good feeling. 

John sits on the bed and waits for Arthur, leaving enough room so that they can both fit on it well. He’s only ever cuddled him in his sleep when he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing. This was new, this was intentional, it had a new feeling to it. When Arthur gets on the bed, John scoots a little closer before wrapping his arms around him and closing in the space. It’s warm and comforting, especially against the cool night air. A tent didn’t have much insulation after all. 

Arthur allows John to do this, the feeling natural already. It was even slightly comforting. He wasn’t used to this, but he wanted to never end this moment. Arthur wraps his arms around John’s waist and pulls him closer to him as well. He rests his chin on John’s head, letting the warmth drawn into them. “I wanna leave, Marston.”

It’s the last thing he says as he falls asleep. He had never wanted to leave the gang until now, but he couldn’t leave them. Dutch needed him, Hosea needed him, all of them needed him. It wasn’t until morning that they start heading out together, the gang traveling into the mountains. A snowstorm interrupts their plans, and of course, someone has to die. O’Driscolls track them down as well, it’s as if peace doesn’t exist.

It’s not until the exact thing happens with the wolf attack on John, it was inevitable because Dutch forced him to go. Except for this time, Arthur knew exactly where John was, and saved his life just like he had done before. He did this before they went out to go find another camp, which is where they met Sadie, and where Arthur captured Kieran. Except for this time he was kind to Kieran. Hell, Arthur didn’t even tie him up, he just let him ride his horse with him.

He argued with Dutch for hours and Sadie, who wanted the “O’Driscoll dead.” It was annoying but finally, Arthur won the argument when John and Hosea both stepped in. It ended with Arthur patting Kieran on the shoulder, telling the kid that he deserved better. Kieran was almost shocked at this entire exchange. It wasn’t until Arthur invited Kieran to sleep in his shed with John that he was truly astonished by their kindness. “You’re good men, sirs,” Kieran told them.

After that, the usual shootout happened with the O’Driscolls and train robbery occurred. Arthur constantly antagonized Micah. That went to the extent of shoving, pushing, swearing at him, and kicking him awake. He hated Micah and he made it obvious, even told him that he did. The gang didn’t question it for whatever reason, except Dutch who called it immature. Arthur immediately snapped at Dutch, which started another long argument between the two. It ended when Hosea stepped in again, saying for them to cool it.

Sadie and Arthur were becoming close friends as well. She even started to sympathize with Kieran and allowed him to hang around with her. She only sympathized with him when he told her he was just a horse caretaker, nothing else. Sadie had felt bad for assuming he was just another O’Driscoll murderer, but she instead realized he was just an innocent, sweet kid. Sadie even started becoming friends with John. She was a new member, but Arthur and John loved her already.

Abigail and Mary were still friends, she’d keep Mary away from Arthur. Mary would sometimes still find her way to Arthur which would end in Arthur storming off and finding John. He’d only find John and ask him to talk about something random since John wasn’t the best converser, he’d cause some unintentional funny statements being said. Those would cause Arthur to throw his head back and let out a loud laugh. Mary would become more and more jealous when seeing this. She’d catch John stealing quick kisses between them as well, or the way Arthur pulls him to his chest and kisses his forehead as if he’s the only thing that he wanted to protect in that world. 

“You have him around your finger, John,” Mary speaks up. It was just her and Sadie sitting there with John; Arthur had left with Charles to handle some situation with Bisons being killed. It was all a new problem since the gang had set camp in Valentine. It was all after Arthur got into a bar fight with Tommy, and won. It was the new camp gossip about how strong Arthur was, and how he could manhandle anyone. Even Dutch would add in some jokes about the situation. Micah would just suck in his lips like an angry squirrel with rabies.

  
  



End file.
